Water Lilies: Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: The Scent of Jasmine

Soft lips moving under hers responsively, a sigh of contentment emitted from deep within...

Makoto opened her eyes and sighed. Sitting up and pushing aside her covers forcefully, she stalked into the bathroom. It was the same dream again, the one where she was kissing Ami. And Ami was kissing her back just as intensely. The first time it happened she had been home for a week and the dream left her feeling rather puzzled upon waking. Now it happened often, whenever she thought of writing or calling Ami. For some reason or another it made her nervous and so she held off contacting the woman.

Makoto ran a hand through her mahogany hair in frustration as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror. Her hair looked wild, random strands sticking out of the brown mass. The skin under her eyes was starting to look dark due to the restless nature of her sleep. Not once had she ever felt so confused about someone in her entire life. Of all people to leave her so distracted: Ami was her friend, she couldn't be feeling this way. And why only now? Makoto was fully aware something had changed between her and Ami during her last visit to Yukikura. But what?

The thought that she found Ami attractive and wanted her was a new one for Makoto. Yes, she had always known Ami was good looking but she had never before seen her in such a light. Deep down she knew she was being unfair; from the moment they met to the present, she viewed Ami as the sixteen year old she met in university but somehow during the course of the past few visits she came to see her finally as a grown woman. Makoto had to admit to herself that Ami was so very appealing.

Deep blue eyes and pink, plump lips in the shape of a faintly amused smile flashed in front of her. Another look of Ami's she had seen just once came to her. Recalling the look of love commingled with sorrow, she wondered not for the first time who exactly was the woman's first love. Why did she feel a stirring of dislike for that person? She had the same feeling whenever she pictured Yuri touching Ami in any way. She didn't like it one bit. Makoto kept asking herself one question as she stared at her reflection.

Why did it matter to her so much?

-x-x-x-

Makoto's heart pounded in her throat and she could barely get out the words to ask "It was real?" She closed the distance between her and Ami, a small amount of desperation in her eyes as she clutched the smaller woman's wrist.

"We really kissed?"

"Yes," Ami replied, finding her voice after an unexpected pause. The ire that filled her only a few seconds ago drained rapidly, replaced by confusion from Makoto's behavior.

The answer invited silence; the sound of a pin dropping could have been easily heard. Desperation faded from Makoto's eyes and they became indecipherable. Ami could feel the hot, heavy scrutiny of the brunette on her face; staring into her eyes before dropping to her slightly parted lips. She found it hard to breathe, wanting nothing but to press her lips to Makoto's. The skin of her wrist under Makoto's hand burned. A thousand butterflies filled Ami's stomach, gossamer wings beating against their prison as they sought liberation.

The hoot of an owl nearby broke the spell causing Makoto to drop Ami's hand as if it were a hot coal. For good measure she took a few steps back ensuring there was an adequate amount of space between them. Eyes averted, each woman spent a moment trying to regain their usual poise.

Makoto was the first to speak, somewhat shocked on the inside to hear the tremulous notes in her voice. She never thought she would hear herself speak with such nervousness after she turned thirty. However, here she was, her husky voice abandoning whatever pretense she meant to hold in place as a facade.

"Ami, I apologize for kissing you. I can't seem to remember much of the last night I was here," the brunette began. "We were drinking... After that everything is blank until the next morning."

In frustration, she ran her hands through the bangs of her hair. Ami wanted to go to her, to comfort the tall woman despite the pain she felt upon finding the kiss had been a drunken error of judgment on Makoto's part. She held herself back, waiting for the woman to go on.

The brunette exhaled a puff of air before continuing, "Blaming the alcohol is a lame excuse. I shouldn't have done that to a friend. I'm-well, plain and simple, I'm sorry Ami. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

"I'm sorry," Ami said, quietly.

"Huh?"

Ami gestured toward her cheek and Makoto touched the left side of her face in remembrance. "There's no need to apologize for it. I deserved it," Makoto stated, her hand dropping to her side.

"No, I-"

Makoto held up a hand stopping her mid-sentence, her tone flat. "Really. It's okay."

Ami wanted this conversation to end, she felt exhausted and ashamed. It was mortifying how quickly she snapped in Makoto's presence. All she wanted to do now was hide under her bed covers like a child, hoping it would all blow over in the morning and things would somehow be magically different. The rational part of her scoffed at herself for even entertaining the thought. Even so, she did not have the courage to stay and continue this particular conversation with the other woman.

"I hope you don't mind, Makoto, perhaps we could continue this conversation tomorrow?" Ami held her breath, afraid the brunette would say no. A sickly feeling of elation swirled in her stomach when a brief expression of relief passed over Makoto's face.

"Yes, I think some rest would do us both some good," Makoto agreed. However, she couldn't help but feel a little distressed at Ami's muttered goodnight and hasty exit.

-x-x-x-

Makoto punched the pillow in her quest to find a comfortable spot to fall asleep. It was past midnight, and all was quiet except for the cricket-song pervading the night air; she could hear the sounds clearly through the open windows. The faint scent of the night-blooming jasmine from the inner courtyard wafted into the room courtesy of a light breeze. Lying still, Makoto took a deep breath, letting the aromatic odor calm her. She recalled the same scent from the last visit. Admitting to herself it would be a while before sleep claimed her, she sat upright in bed and sighed.

Why, oh why had she kissed Ami?

Simply put, because she was attracted to her friend. And while Makoto was commitment-phobic, she did not renounce physical attraction whenever it reared its head. The women she involved herself with echoed the same sentiment, although most people would be surprised at the small number of those relationships Makoto allowed herself.

So what was she going to do? Suggest an affair to Ami? Makoto laughed, silently and mockingly at the idea. She needed to find a way to fix this, to restore her and Ami's relationship back to their comfortable level of friendship and to suppress whatever desires were developing for the woman in the next room.

Giving up on finding a solution, Makoto stood and crossed the room to the sliding door. Perhaps a beer or two might help her sleep. Her mouth hitched into a wry smile; alcohol landed her in trouble the last time and here she was relying on it again. The irony was not lost to her.

-x-x-x-

While the house was traditional, the kitchen was not. Ami's grandfather, Hana's husband, was a carpenter who had a passion for cooking. In their thirties when they inherited the house Hana left all decisions regarding their home to him. The only changes he made were to the kitchen: creating low, wide counters with enough room to prepare food while others could sit and eat on the other side on low benches. He had also added whatever modern convenience he deemed necessary, such as a proper stove and refrigerator.

Hana heartily approved; even though she could cook, she did not particularly care to do so and left the preparation of the meals to her husband. If having an up-to-date kitchen pleased him, then it pleased her in turn. Of course some neighbors were quite scandalized when they learned instead of cooking, Hana relied on her husband to do so.

Gently rubbing her fingers over the smooth counter-top, a small smile grew on Ami's face as she remembered Hana telling her stories of the neighbors' shock and how much it amused the older woman while growing up. Ami loved this kitchen, loved this house and not for the first time wondered if she would ever get the chance to experience the kind of love Hana spoke of when she mentioned her grandfather, or even Keiko. Would she ever get to experience any of it in this house? The smile on her face dimmed, replaced by a look of melancholy.

She raised the beer bottle to her lips, about to take a sip when a movement in the periphery made her pause. Makoto stood in the doorway, caught in the act of turning away.

"I...," Makoto began, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Couldn't sleep?" Ami asked, and the tall woman nodded. "Me either."

Makoto stood at the door, undecided on whether she should join Ami or pretend she was on the way to the restroom.

"Please, don't leave on my account." The low and unusually throaty tone in which Ami spoke made Makoto nod again and step into the kitchen. It also made her heart ache suddenly. If she was the one to put such a sad look on Ami's face then how could she ever forgive herself? Taking a breath and aiming for normalcy Makoto tilted her head towards the beer in Ami's hand.

"Aren't you usually the glass of red wine type?"

"Oh...I thought I'd try slumming it tonight. You know, do what the peons do, that sort of thing." Ami played along, a slight smile on her face.

"The peons, huh?" Makoto asked, as she helped herself to a beer from the fridge. "Is milady pleased with our lowly beverage?"

A look of mock disdain danced on Ami's face, a small twinkle in her eye. "It will suffice, for now."

Makoto chuckled and the sound wrapped itself around Ami's heart. Taking a seat on the low bench next to the doctor, the two sat in silence, occasionally raising the bottles to their mouths. As the scent of jasmine perfumed the air, a modest amount of peace settled upon them.

With Makoto sitting at her side, Ami pushed all other thoughts out of her head. Telling herself it was enough to just give in and enjoy this quiet moment, Ami did exactly that. But she didn't particularly care to finish her beer now, she had something else in mind. Placing the bottle down onto the counter, she turned to Makoto.

"Do you want to take a midnight ride? The moon is full, so it's a good night for it."

Makoto almost choked mid-gulp. She sputtered for a moment before regaining her breath.  Midnight ride? Those words could be downright dirty given the right kind of context. But Ami couldn't possibly be thinking that? Could she? Wasn't it just a couple of hours ago she got slapped for a kiss?

Ascertaining the brunette was fine after the coughing fit, Ami explained further, "Sometimes when I can't sleep and the moon is full, I do it. You can use Hana's bicycle if you'd like, it still works well and has been sitting in the garage for far too long. The neighbor uses it on occasion." Ami was well aware she was on the verge of rambling while waiting for an answer from the tall woman. There was also a rather odd expression on Makoto's face.

Bicycle? Oh! She meant that kind of ride...

Makoto heaved a sigh of relief. It was just her own mind in the gutter then.

"Sure."

Ami's countenance brightened. "Great! Meet me by the garage door when you're done getting dressed."

"Okay," she answered, as she stared at Ami's retreating back. It had certainly been an interesting day and it seemed far from over. If doing something like this was what it took to put a smile on Ami's face then she'd gladly do it again and again.

-x-x-x-

Hana, awake in her bed, heard the low murmuring of voices from the kitchen. A few minutes later footsteps that were supposed to be stealthy slipped by her room before she heard the sliding of the front door. Hana found it amusing; they were two grown women yet they were sneaking out like teenagers. A rusty chuckle escaped her lips.

Oh to be young again.