[Fanfic] Kagi No Kakatta Heya - Who Knows
Title: Who Knows
Fandom: Kagi No Kakatta Heya
Pairing: Enomoto x Aoto
Author's Note: Ahh yet another cute pairing. Irresistible!
Disclaimer: KNKH and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: After he disappeared, nobody knew where he went.
The first postcard arrived two weeks after.
Aoto Junko would have missed it, buried as it was under tax returns and fast-food delivery flyers and miscellaneous junk but as fate would have it, she didn't. It was a Saturday and she had the day off and as such was not so much in a hurry as she normally was. Thus when the postcard dropped out of the pile she picked up in front of her mailbox, she leisurely bent down to pick it up and casually turned it over to see the postmark, wondering just which one of her friends was old-fashioned enough to write one.
The postcard was from Italy, and on it was simply written; "I'm In Italy."
… And a phone number.
A heartbeat passed... and she suddenly made a leap for her poor innocent cellphone charging at its dock. With deft taps she keyed in the phone number and waited. The ringing tone was almost unbearable until...
"Hello."
It was difficult to describe her feelings at that moment. Happiness? Somewhat. Annoyed? A little. Elated?
Definitely, if her ear-to ear grin was any indication. The voice at the other end may be speaking in a foreign language but it was unmistakeably… "Enomoto-san," She greeted him in a breathless, wonderous rush. "It's you, isn't it?" Her hands gripped the phone, straining to listen to anything - a car rumble, a splash of water - anything.
"Yes. Hello, Aoto-san."
So matter-of-factly, as if they had never been apart. She remembered that one time she had called him while he was in Nagoya and he had sounded just a little annoyed... but she's not at fault here is she? He should be expecting her call - he gave her the number! She sighed and flopped down on her bed with a smile, studying the postcard. "Italy, huh?" She finally asked. She tried to imagine him sitting up ramrod straight in a roadside cafe like she always saw in foreign TV shows, perhaps in a coat but always always immaculate with glasses and tie. She imagined the cafe was by a canal, and boatmen in striped shirts would ferry by. Italy. How romantic.
"Yes. It is an interesting country." He added in his monotonous yet in his own unique way - gentle, polite, unflappable tone.
"You mean it has interesting locks," She corrected him and could picture him almost - almost - smile. The corner of his lips would quirk just so, but it lighted up his face so beautifully. She often observed that when he would successfully open a lock that was previous thought to be... unlock-able. Funny how his world revolved around locks, an item that most people barely give a passing thought to. "Indeed. The traditional Italian locks have a mechanism that is - "
"Sounds like you're having fun," She interrupted him before he could go off on a tangent, as he was prone to be when talking about his beloved locks. As happy as she was to hear from him, she didn't want to suffer a migraine from information overload. "Must be so much fun, travelling."
"You would like to travel, Aoto-san?"
"You know I do," She laughed. "You were in my room. You saw all the magazines."
For a moment he was silent. For a terrible heartbeat Aoko was afraid he had hung up. And then…
"Would you like to travel, Aoto-san?"
The same sentence with a simple rearrangement of words. One, an innocent inquiry. Another, a whisper from the devil. Wouldn't she like to travel? Was he offering her the chance to escape the doldrums of her existence?
Dared she to take that offer?
"Really?" She giggled airily, hiding her inner turmoil. After a moment sighed dreamily and settled on her answer. "But it's the 'Illusion' Sake all over again, isn't it?" She recalled. "By the way, Serizawa-san is still super mad at you for lying about being a thief."
"I never lied." He sounded... petulant. "You never asked."
"Yes, yes," She rolled over to her side and stared at her tiny studio apartment. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine him walking the length of it in that odd robotic gait that he adopted when investigating. "When will you be back?" She finally whispered. Through the faint background noise she felt he had drawn a breath, but she couldn't be sure.
"Who knows."
Who knows.
In her mind's eye she saw him lift his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, deep in thought. She could hear the lock unravelling itself, jangling fiercely, driving towards that inevitable moment when it would be unlocked -
"Until later, Enomoto-san," She whispered suddenly and hung up. She couldn't bear it. This was one lock she didn't dare give him to solve. She wondered if it was too late already, and that he already knew that he was the key.
Halfway around the world, in a quiet motel room and garbed in his customary sweater and tie with a multitude of locks on the dresser in front of him, Enomoto Kei stood with the phone still pressed to his ear and his hand frozen in the motion of turning a key. THE key.
Slowly he lowered the phone and stared at it. His reflection gave nothing away, save a hint of a smile lighting up his normally stoic face. Somehow the reflection became Aoto Junko, her beaming smile reaching into the depths of his murky thoughts.
"Your heart..." He said simply;
"I've unlocked it."
Fandom: Kagi No Kakatta Heya
Pairing: Enomoto x Aoto
Author's Note: Ahh yet another cute pairing. Irresistible!
Disclaimer: KNKH and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: After he disappeared, nobody knew where he went.
The first postcard arrived two weeks after.
Aoto Junko would have missed it, buried as it was under tax returns and fast-food delivery flyers and miscellaneous junk but as fate would have it, she didn't. It was a Saturday and she had the day off and as such was not so much in a hurry as she normally was. Thus when the postcard dropped out of the pile she picked up in front of her mailbox, she leisurely bent down to pick it up and casually turned it over to see the postmark, wondering just which one of her friends was old-fashioned enough to write one.
The postcard was from Italy, and on it was simply written; "I'm In Italy."
… And a phone number.
A heartbeat passed... and she suddenly made a leap for her poor innocent cellphone charging at its dock. With deft taps she keyed in the phone number and waited. The ringing tone was almost unbearable until...
"Hello."
It was difficult to describe her feelings at that moment. Happiness? Somewhat. Annoyed? A little. Elated?
Definitely, if her ear-to ear grin was any indication. The voice at the other end may be speaking in a foreign language but it was unmistakeably… "Enomoto-san," She greeted him in a breathless, wonderous rush. "It's you, isn't it?" Her hands gripped the phone, straining to listen to anything - a car rumble, a splash of water - anything.
"Yes. Hello, Aoto-san."
So matter-of-factly, as if they had never been apart. She remembered that one time she had called him while he was in Nagoya and he had sounded just a little annoyed... but she's not at fault here is she? He should be expecting her call - he gave her the number! She sighed and flopped down on her bed with a smile, studying the postcard. "Italy, huh?" She finally asked. She tried to imagine him sitting up ramrod straight in a roadside cafe like she always saw in foreign TV shows, perhaps in a coat but always always immaculate with glasses and tie. She imagined the cafe was by a canal, and boatmen in striped shirts would ferry by. Italy. How romantic.
"Yes. It is an interesting country." He added in his monotonous yet in his own unique way - gentle, polite, unflappable tone.
"You mean it has interesting locks," She corrected him and could picture him almost - almost - smile. The corner of his lips would quirk just so, but it lighted up his face so beautifully. She often observed that when he would successfully open a lock that was previous thought to be... unlock-able. Funny how his world revolved around locks, an item that most people barely give a passing thought to. "Indeed. The traditional Italian locks have a mechanism that is - "
"Sounds like you're having fun," She interrupted him before he could go off on a tangent, as he was prone to be when talking about his beloved locks. As happy as she was to hear from him, she didn't want to suffer a migraine from information overload. "Must be so much fun, travelling."
"You would like to travel, Aoto-san?"
"You know I do," She laughed. "You were in my room. You saw all the magazines."
For a moment he was silent. For a terrible heartbeat Aoko was afraid he had hung up. And then…
"Would you like to travel, Aoto-san?"
The same sentence with a simple rearrangement of words. One, an innocent inquiry. Another, a whisper from the devil. Wouldn't she like to travel? Was he offering her the chance to escape the doldrums of her existence?
Dared she to take that offer?
"Really?" She giggled airily, hiding her inner turmoil. After a moment sighed dreamily and settled on her answer. "But it's the 'Illusion' Sake all over again, isn't it?" She recalled. "By the way, Serizawa-san is still super mad at you for lying about being a thief."
"I never lied." He sounded... petulant. "You never asked."
"Yes, yes," She rolled over to her side and stared at her tiny studio apartment. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine him walking the length of it in that odd robotic gait that he adopted when investigating. "When will you be back?" She finally whispered. Through the faint background noise she felt he had drawn a breath, but she couldn't be sure.
"Who knows."
Who knows.
In her mind's eye she saw him lift his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, deep in thought. She could hear the lock unravelling itself, jangling fiercely, driving towards that inevitable moment when it would be unlocked -
"Until later, Enomoto-san," She whispered suddenly and hung up. She couldn't bear it. This was one lock she didn't dare give him to solve. She wondered if it was too late already, and that he already knew that he was the key.
Halfway around the world, in a quiet motel room and garbed in his customary sweater and tie with a multitude of locks on the dresser in front of him, Enomoto Kei stood with the phone still pressed to his ear and his hand frozen in the motion of turning a key. THE key.
Slowly he lowered the phone and stared at it. His reflection gave nothing away, save a hint of a smile lighting up his normally stoic face. Somehow the reflection became Aoto Junko, her beaming smile reaching into the depths of his murky thoughts.
"Your heart..." He said simply;
"I've unlocked it."