Manga notes:
-In the beginning of the manga, Mai and Natsuki were rivals? Bitter enemies? Anyway, they were fighting for some petty reason or another and then new student Taters somehow got caught in between and became both of their Keys.
-I think I explained some of the discrepancies in the fic. Otherwise, just ask me. Not thinking now.
Other stuff:
-The story of Kiyohime I used is basically all the different versions I've read over the 'net mixed into one. So like...uber Kiyohime? Therefore, if some stuff I mention about her is slightly different from what you've heard, that's why.
----------
The weather was nice today, Natsuki decided as she stared into the light blue sky filled with wispy clouds. For a summer morning, it was rather cool—perfect in her opinion.
She sat on the steps at the entrance of her home; her helmet was cradled in her lap. Her eyes glanced forward to where her haphazardly parked bike had dangerously skidded to a stop at the edge of the tiny flower bed near the stone steps. Months ago she would’ve been admonished for being so careless though there was no one to stop her now.
She had gone out driving for no reason in particular. Now that she had graduated, she had far too much free time on her hands. She didn’t commit to working fulltime at the garage either. She already felt restless at being restricted to it. She liked working with engines, the feeling of oil on her skin—something Shizuru found hilarious and teased her about—but she couldn’t imagine doing it forever. It was too simple. She blamed it all the multitasking she had done in high school; it ruined her. She could process information quickly and put it to use, connecting it to whatever sources she already had. That was why she had been able to keep and establish her contacts while making some progress.
Then why had she failed at the very end? She had her sources, the information—they gave her everything she needed to deal with the situation and yet she didn‘t come close to succeeding. She could predict an opposing faction’s actions. Yet, at the same time, she flagrantly missed the meaning behind all of Shizuru’s which caused this predicament to arise.
It was her fault, she already deducted, for being so blind. She had a limited perspective. She only saw herself, her faults, and paid no attention to the world outside herself unless it suited her needs. Therefore, she found herself isolated.
That thought caused her to grin bemusedly in an almost maniacal fashion. The look was completely unbecoming and Shizuru would always reprimand her with amusement glittering in her burgundy-colored eyes. She had once countered that Shizuru only thought it was unbecoming because she had been taught so. That look, she decided, of shock on the older woman’s face was quite memorable. Shizuru had gone silent, accessing Natsuki’s words, and said:
“My, Natsuki sometimes says wise things.”
“You mean that I usually don’t?” She replied in mock offense.
“Perhaps.” Shizuru answered with a giggle. Natsuki had the feeling that she was somehow teasing her yet she couldn’t figure out how.
“But it is true, isn’t it?” She gently persisted, “learned actions become habits. And then habits become part of one’s character.”
“Like how much you drink tea.”
“Ara? Are you hinting at something? I seem to remember that you have been drinking an excess amount.”
“That’s because there’s nothing else to drink!”
“If you want to complain, then you should do the shopping.”
“Shizuru,” she whined.
Shizuru moved closer to her, an amused smile on her face. “What is it?”
She wondered what it was as she looked at the tread marks from her bike that now stained her front yard.
Her mind wandered back to what recently happened in Kyoto. She was the only one that left it unscathed. Poor Nao, she thought. She felt responsible for what happened to the younger woman who ultimately was the catalyst for the event. Although, chances were that it would’ve happened sooner or later.
She sighed.
After the shock of Shizuru’s abrupt departure had worn off, Natsuki moved closer to Nao and helped her up.
“Sorry about all of this,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
Nao scoffed even as she stumbled forward. Her arms, legs, and waist were littered with perfectly sliced wounds. If the situation was different, Natsuki would’ve admired Shizuru’s handiwork. From sparing with Shizuru, she knew how formidable the woman was, even without the HiME power.
“If any of these leave permanent scars, I’m killing you and that insane woman,” Nao said. Her voice slightly distorted because she was clutching her still bleeding nose.
Natsuki decided not to reply. Instead, she looked around their battlefield and saw the mess that they made. She wondered how she was going to erase all the evidence. Maybe she could call one of her old contacts and convince them to do a favor for her, just for old time’s sake. But first things first.
“Let me help you to the nearest hospital,” she offered.
Nao glared at her, but grudging accepted her offer.
As they slowly walked down the stairs, they saw a group of black suit-wearing men and woman approach them. Natsuki felt her body tense and Nao at her side do the same. One of them approached them. With a formal bow, the man introduced himself as Takamori Ryuusei.
“Kuga-dono, allow us to do our job. We shall clean everything up with the best of our ability.”
Natsuki could not prevent a small smile from appearing on her face. It seemed that Shizuru had beaten her.
“She sent you, didn’t she?” She asked, just to confirm.
“That would be correct, Kuga-dono. We can send both of you to one of our hospitals.”
“Don’t leave me with them,” Nao muttered softly so that only Natsuki could hear. There was nervousness and a trace of fear that laced her voice that made Natsuki reconsider just leaving her.
“Alright,” she said. Natsuki paused for a moment, earning another angry glare from Nao, before she belatedly asked: “You don’t mind if I go with her to the hospital?”
“Not at all.”
There was an almost fond smile on her lips as she remembered what had happened next. It was a bit strange, relating the hospital and that situation with fondness, but she could not help it. She had found that she could easily relate to Nao. Both of them had uneasy memories of such places. Despite the front that the younger girl put up—she was just like her. They were surprisingly similar that it bordered slightly disconcerting. She and Nao would probably never get along cordially; however, it wouldn’t stop them from grudgingly accepting one another.
Natsuki sighed heavily as she stared off into a distance that she could not see. She shifted restlessly. There was no point in just sitting there reminiscing about the past. She wasn’t the type of person to do so. She preferred action. And, therefore, she would take action.
Back then, during that fight with that gigantic six-headed snake Shizuru called “Kiyohime,” she had finally understood something. She had stumbled across the source of her problem. After a few nights pondering and linking all her information together, Natsuki had come to a conclusion. This morning she had located the source. She had been indecisive and unsure of herself at first, but now, she saw no other choice. If she was to move on with her life, she had to overcome that obstacle. There was nothing more, nothing less for her to do.
Natsuki stood up.
She knew where she needed to go.
Even though she knew all of this, it didn’t make the drive there less difficult, less taxing on her self-control. She debated and thought over so many different scenarios that they all began to blur in her mind. One thing lead to another and another and so forth. It was not long before she began making excuses to avoid the soon-to-be encounter; however, she managed to keep her resolve.
It took her exactly twenty-two minutes and eight seconds to reach her desired destination. Natsuki stopped her bike in front of a modest, relatively new looking dojo. A kendo school, to be exact.
She took off her helmet and ran her fingers through her hair. It was now or never. She had gone through enough ordeals to last several lifetimes—she could handle it. These last few years had changed her for the better, she was stronger now—at least she hoped.
Deep breath…
…and there he was, standing in front of his dojo, smiling boyishly and his embarrassment was obvious even from a distance. There was Tate Yuuichi. Tokiha Mai stood next to him, almost protectively, with her arms crossed. However, Natsuki barely saw her; she did not even acknowledge her existence. All she saw was him.
When she approached, Tate’s awkward grin widened and he scratched his head out of reflex.
“Hi.”
He hadn’t changed much since she last seen him nearly four years ago. She had made an effort to make sure her path never crossed his at the university. The sight of him, just standing there, looking absolutely uncomfortable and ready to drop everything and run…it somehow made her heart throb painfully. She didn’t know why—it just did.
“…It’s been a while,” she replied curtly, not willing to say his name. There were too many memories attached to it, mostly bad ones. She had grown since then, she had changed…Natsuki hoped.
“Why don’t we go inside and talk?” Tate said after a painful silence. “We’ll sit on the veranda and chat—it’ll be like old times.”
She almost visibly winced. Wrong. Completely wrong thing to say. He was unlike Shizuru that way. Somehow the Kyoto-native always seemed to find comforting words to cheer her up. Warm, supporting words that gave her stability and courage.
Even so, she followed him through his—it was obviously his—dojo and into his home. He somehow managed to sense that she wanted to speak to him alone so he bade Mai to leave them.
As Natsuki sat down on his veranda, she looked into his relatively small garden. Simplistic was the word to describe the tiny stone and sand garden. It wasn’t even raked. While it was clean (likely Mai’s doing) it was nothing compared to what she and Shizuru had. His garden was sparse and common as the one Shizuru designed was masterfully proportioned and singular.
She finally realized that he was waiting for her permission to speak. Instead, Natsuki sighed, and tried to create a casual conversation.
“I haven’t seen you around.”
Tate laughed, visibly happy that some of the tension was released.
“It’s because I dropped out of the university. It was getting too difficult…mah, that’s not exactly right—the former master of the dojo passed away and he named me his successor so I decided to move in and…
Natsuki drowned out his speech and instead stared at him. He was nothing special—his type was as common as leaves were on a tree. But that was part of what drew her to him in the first place (for some odd reason). Even in his twenties, Tate still looked boyish. His face was lean but there remained that insolent look about him, like he was just getting dragged by his ears through life and he refused to take initiative. No, that wasn’t true—he would take it if he was backed into a wall.
She supposed he was valiant and courageous judging by his actions in the past. He was strong, brave, and reliable in the sense that he would full-heartedly support his friends and never betray them—a regular hero type. He had a good sense of responsibility and justice, yet he was such a quixotic person. He wasn’t afraid to bull his way through problems, events, or people. She admired that strength of character. Still…what drew her to him in the beginning?
“So what about you?” Tate said after breaking out of his dream-like state caused by his recollection. He had finally realized that he had spoken too much.
Natsuki smiled weakly. “I was driving by and I saw you. Was hoping to catch up on everything since it’s been a while.”
It was a complete lie. She had planned everything. She knew that he would be sweeping the front of his dojo at the exact moment she arrived from various sources. Besides, why the hell would she want to catch—
“That’s great!” Tate smiled, “I’m glad to see you again. You look, um, as good as you always did.”
She hated how he could say that and the fact he meant every word. How could he be so sincere? Didn’t she drag him around, kidnap him even, and say all those childish things to him, back then? How could he…
Mai had prepared a small snack tray and tea for them. She set them down and left. Taking a bite into a cookie, Natsuki smiled nostalgically.
“She’s gotten better. I didn’t think it was possible.” She sighed, “That was one thing I could never beat her at.”
“It’s alright. I think you have your own strengths.”
The way he said it made her feel like rolling her eyes. But, in truth, he hadn’t changed at all. His movements, gestures—the way he talked—it was all the same. All those things still made her heart clench—just like it seemed to always do…but something was missing. Or was it? Maybe it wasn’t there to begin with and she never realized it.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He grinned at her before turning to the side to stare into his garden. “I’ve said nothing you need to thank.”
What did she want from him? What made her want him in the first place? These were all the thoughts that pestered the mind of Kuga Natsuki. Why did he make her feel such extreme emotions that she never felt with anyone else and yet…those same ones made her feel awkward, not herself, and not right. Like she exhausted herself over nothing. But it wasn’t nothing; it was something. Something so strong that it made her…
…wait.
She was staring too intensely at Tate. He had consciously moved away from her and was doing his best not to look at her. Beads of sweat were visible on his face. She could count them.
He was so unlike Shizuru. That woman would never look away from her or look so uncomfortable under her gaze. If she did feel so, Shizuru would never show it. She probably knew that Natsuki couldn’t take the disapproval from those she held dear in fear of being shunned. If anything, Shizuru would start teasing her or do something so offbeat, so…so Shizuru-like to make her expression (and often emotion) change. It was just how that woman was and Natsuki could not help smiling in remembrance.
As she continued to stay deep in thought, Tate ventured carefully closer to her the way one would attempt to approach a particularly dangerous animal.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, before breaking into a nervous grin. “Is there something on my face?”
Heh.
After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Natsuki could not help herself: she started laughing. She laughed as hard as she had ever laughed. Tears started falling. Her sides hurt; she clutched them. She hadn’t laughed so hard in months, especially in the last few painful ones. She really couldn't stop herself. The levity of the situation just seemed so humorous now. The sheer discomfort that was almost tangible, Tate Yuuichi’s face…everything was just too funny.
All Tate could do was stare at her incredulously and scratch his sideburns. That action made her laugh even harder. She roared, she howled, shaking her head from side-to-side.
After a few minutes had passed, she finally managed to calm herself. Wiping her tears from her eyes, Natsuki regained control of her voice.
“Sorry. It’s just that I finally realized something about myself.”
“Eh?”
“I can’t believe how stupid I am.” She said, laughing. “I finally get it. It’s taken over five years for me to open my eyes.”
She had never felt better. She felt almost like a new person, as if she had completely changed—she now had no burden to bear. The heavy weight that weighed her down, causing her to focus her entire self upon supporting it, had vanished. She now could stand up and look at her surroundings. She felt like Amaterasu had finally come out of her cave and brought the sun back to shine brightly on her world, causing all shadows and lingering doubts, fears, and inhibitions to flee into the back of her mind.
“I can’t believe I spent not just high school, but also college mooning over you. No, it wasn’t really you as a person, but you as an ideal.” She said smiling, running her hand through her hair.
“I don’t think I follow.”
“It’s so obvious to me now. You were just there. You abruptly entered my life so I wasn’t prepared.” Like Shizuru, she thought, “I think part of me wanted someone besides me since I’ve been alone for so long. I never considered Shizuru because she was always at my side and…part of me always wanted to believe in the fairy tales my parents used to tell me.
“The moment you came between Mai and me and accidentally bumped into my Element, I willed myself to believe that my prince had come. I made you my Key through sheer force of will. I followed you because I wanted security. No matter how many times you rejected or pulled me away, I blindly continued to pursue you with emotions I made myself to feel. I wanted you because I wanted an dream.”
She smiled again, resting her head on her crossed arms; her knees were tucked close to the rest of her body.
“I chased after a person who was never there. I hadn’t experienced enough to realize what I felt wasn’t right or did I know what I wanted. Therefore, if I didn’t know what I wanted, how could I have it? I was always confused or misdirected.
“But what—who—I wanted was right in front of me. Just in a direction I never looked, never considered. After a while she started to give me what I always needed. It was only after she left that I realized, at least unconsciously, that I was missing something—someone. The feeling of emptiness consumed me. I yearned for something more in my life. So I went searching for a solution. That is why I came here.”
That had to be it. There was no doubt in her mind anymore what she wanted. She was mature enough to see clearly through the thick haze of misdirection and juvenile confusion.
It was only though looking at Tate, the person she had chasing for so long, that she saw him finally as the person he was, not the person she wanted him to be. It was after she realized that she was subconsciously comparing him to Shizuru that she finally understood. She had found that missing piece that had evaded her for so long, even though it was always right there in front of her.
There was no reason for her to stay any longer so Kuga Natsuki stood up. She smiled.
“Thank you.”
Tate grinned. “I’m not sure what happened, but I’m glad to be of use.”
Natsuki turned and looked up to the sky. Her gaze was wistful. After, she turned back and gave a short bow.
“I’ll excuse myself now. Thanks again for your time.”
“Not at all. And I’ll see you around.”
Natsuki left Tate Yuuichi sitting on the floor of his engawa and moved swiftly through his home. She was about to leave the genkan before she heard the sound of loud footsteps and Mai calling out:
“Wait,” she said.
Natsuki stopped and turned to look at her.
“Yeah?”
“These are for you,” Mai held up a bag containing a box of her homemade cookies.
“Thank you.”
“I…overheard your conversation with Yuuichi.”
“I know.”
“You did?”
“Didn’t care.”
“Even so, I’m glad for you.” Her purple eyes looked down to the side. “We’ve never been really close but I get the feeling that we would’ve been really good friends if circumstances had been different. It feels like a shame, you know?”
Natsuki joined her nervous laughter before replying. “I think so too.”
“But there is still time. We still have another chance. We’re over our petting rivalry and eh…what?” She looked at the hand Natsuki extended.
Natsuki looked at her expectantly. “Your cookies, give them to me.”
“Oh.” The sound of more laughter and the plastic bag exchanging hands was heard.
Natsuki looked at Mai and saw the other do the same. They both smiled.
“I hope you get her back.”
Natsuki looked away. “Me too”
She put her helmet on and started to walk towards where she had parked her motorcycle.
Mai called out once more from the genkan. “You and Kaichou-san are invited to come over anytime!”
Natsuki flipped her visor up and nodded, smiling although the other woman could not see.
With a careless wave of her hand, Kuga Natsuki left the kendo dojo with her mind clearer than ever before. She felt at peace with herself, something she had never felt since she was very young. And she certainly knew what she had to do.
*~*~*~
The moment she saw him, their eyes met, she fell in love with him. (No, not her—she did.) There was something about him, the kindness in his warm, brown eyes that spoke of deep wisdom, gentleness, and yet there was a bit of troubled confliction in them. They reached out to her. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened and she saw his do the same. She once again seemed to be completely engulfed in the sheer brownness that was his eyes. It just took a single moment, a second suspended in time—that intake of breath, motion stopped—and she fell so completely into him in a way she never dreamed possible. There was no logic to it—she just did. (But she didn’t, she did.)
“Who is he,” she asked, tugging on her father’s sleeve.
The innkeeper laughed at his daughter. He took her infatuation lightly and, seeing how he had just drunk his evening sake, he was in a merry mood.
“That man is to be your husband.”
She knew he was joking. The man—monk, actually—grinned, taking no offense of the comment. His name was Anchin. As a child, he had been orphaned. He grew up in a temple not too far from their inn. Now, at the age of 20—he was three years older than her—he decided to go on a pilgrimage to find himself. To search for that complete awakening, enlightenment. Something like that. He was looking for a place to stay for the night. Because of the generous amount of money he was willing to spend, her parents readily welcomed him.
She found herself drowning in him (it wasn’t her, it was someone else). Everything about Anchin was alluring and fully engrossing. He kept himself well groomed. Everything, including him, was maintained clean and orderly which was something that likely existed due to his background, but it was a characteristic that she, an innkeeper’s daughter, valued highly in a person. The way he smiled, the way his eyes would disappear when he smiled, the way he would acknowledge her when she came in to give him tea…the polite tone he would always speak to her in…how could she (not her!) not adore him?
They found much to talk about, every year he stopped by. He was patient and let her talk excitedly and passionately—for she was a very passionate, emotional person—something her parents forbid her to do for it was unbecoming of a girl her age. She was the only child and she rarely found anyone to talk to; the inn was rather far from the nearby town. They were slightly secluded—in the middle of nowhere, really. She therefore rarely had anyone to talk to and relish any chance to speak to a willing listener. (it wasn’t her, it was someone else).
He was the first person that really talked to her. She didn’t get scolded or was laughed deridingly at even though she was young and slightly clumsy. When she accidentally broke her sandal and tripped, he just laughed kindly and helped her up. He even fixed her broken footwear for her!
She (she wasn’t this person) knew that he liked her too. She wasn’t beautiful appearance-wise, she was a bit plain really, but she was still somewhat attractive. But that didn’t matter seeing how handsome Anchin seemed to enjoy her presence as much as she did his. In slightly dissimilar ways, they were lonely people which instinctively took comfort in each other. That was what she thought.
Every time he came to visit, he would always bring her an extravagant gift. Then they would go somewhere and talk. Anchin always seemed like he was torn in two separate ways. He had a hard time making decisions. Although, one day, when they reached his room, he had slid the door close and then kissed her! Oh how she cherished that kiss and would always remember it (it wasn’t her; these weren’t the emotions she were feeling). He spoke softly, saying how he loved her and, if it was for her sake, give up his life as a monk so they could go live together somewhere. Her heart soared across the brilliant, cloudless blue heaven! He was speaking the words that she wished to hear! How could she say no? It was so romantic! Tomorrow he would go back to the monastery, gather up what little belongings he owned, tell the others that he would be leaving, and then they would go. Did she want to?
Oh didn’t she! That night she climbed into his bed and laid next to him. Anchin only smiled at her (not her, not her!) action and turned to the other side, refusing to face her. He looked so conflicted and forlorn. She hugged him fiercely but he didn’t react. That morning, he patted her head and told her:
“Wait for me. I will come back soon.”
“Will you promise me, Anchin?”
He smiled. She swore that his smile was almost sad. “I promise. I shall return.”
His eyes were stormy; she couldn’t read his emotions. But she clung onto his promise and the remnants of the passionate kiss which they shared together. There was no way that Anchin would ever go back on his word, she reasoned. So she held fiercely onto all her memories of him and waited (it wasn’t her! wasn’t her, she wasn’t Kiyohime, she was—)
Over a year passed. In her family’s garden, the chrysanthemums had blossomed and then faded, much like her foolish, girlish dreams. Winter turned into spring and then all the seasons began to blur in her mind in a hazy swirl of delirium. He’ll come, she willed herself to believe. He’ll come. Anchin will come. He will come, he will come, he will come, he will come, he will come…he will come! He has too!
He didn’t. He never did. She felt her body growing weaker and weaker. She didn’t eat. She barely slept, if at all. Her paler skin became paler still. Why didn’t he come? She stared at the maple trees whose leaves were red like blood now. Why won’t Anchin come? She thought, crying to herself. He promised.
Her parents worried about her. They sent for all the best doctors that they could find. But none of them could help her. How could they heal a sickness as deep and incurable as love?
Deep happiness, joy, and love turned into expectation. When expectation faded , it became sorrow. Now, her poignant sadness had been rendered into hatred. From hatred it evolved into blind, all-consuming rage that shook her to her very core. Sorrow had turned her into a weak apparition of her old, vivacious self. Rage caused her to shed her former self entirely. She was no longer human. The chill of cold, burning despair had crept upon her and consumed what was left of her body. From there, her powerful hatred turned her spirit into a snake. She would destroy everything that stood in her way of happiness! If Anchin could not give up his attachment for his beloved monastery, she would destroy it! She would burn everything in her path with her fiery wrath! For his sake and hers, she would do anything! Everything!
It was Anchin’s fault! Everything was his fault! He caused her to become this way, he gave her so much happiness and then heartlessly took it all away because of his indecision! How dare he deceive her! How dare he! He would pay. He would pay! She was going to make him feel her fury. She was going to make him feel fear and then she—she…
Not she! It wasn’t her. This wasn’t her rage. She wasn’t this person. She struggled. She needed to break out of this. Hurry! Break…
In her penthouse apartment in Kyoto, Fujino Shizuru woke up, panting heavily. She had been dreaming but it wasn’t her dream. She saw the events happening through the eyes of a spectator. Somewhat. It was hard to describe. The feelings, she felt them as if she was that person. She was both a spectator and that person. She was an entity that saw things with that person’s eyes. It strained her mind to attempt to differentiate between her and that woman—Kiyohime.
The dream had shaken her badly. She knew she had almost lost herself completely in that dream. Shizuru shifted in her bed and then sat upright. Burying her face into her hands, she tried to calm herself. Breathe in, breathe out. She slowly relaxed.
Even though her hands still shook, she managed to pour herself a glass of water. These dreams were getting stronger and stronger. Shizuru didn’t know how much more she could take. One day, likely very soon, she would get lost in them. After she had finally regained control of herself, she stood up.
As she slowly walked towards one of the large, glass windows of her suite, Shizuru stared at her reflection. Her nights have obviously been sleepless seeing how bloodshot her eyes were. There were also black rings under them that, right now, no make-up attempted to hide. Shizuru curled her hands into fists, her entire body tensed before she finally let out a sigh. Gathering her wits, she called out:
“Kiyohime!”
“You called, Mother?” The ghost retorted, appearing promptly.
Shizuru’s reflection had been contorted into an entirely different entity. Staring back at her were not her usually burgundy-colored eyes, but bright yellow ones slit like a snake’s. While she seemed exhausted, Kiyohime could not be more vibrant. However, that energy was not doing well for her. The ghost’s appearance was becoming less and less human-like and more like that hideous form she had appeared in during that rooftop battle that seemed an eternity ago. Her form seemed to reflect her sanity as well. Kiyohime was slowly going insane.
“What is the meaning of this?” Shizuru asked harshly.
“Meaning of what?” Replied what would’ve been an innocent tone had a snicker not followed it.
“You know what I mean, Kiyohime. Why are you invading my dreams?”
“Am I? Or are you invading my own?” The pointed teeth-filled mouth slid into a fearsome smile, showing even more of the ghost’s fangs. “Perhaps we are becoming one or have always been one and the same?”
“Leave me. Now.”
“But I can not. I have said before, Mother, your emotions bonded me to you. I am the product of your feelings. And as long as you can not abandon your feelings for Anchin, I shall remain your Child.”
“Natsuki! Her name is Natsuki.” Shizuru said, grimacing.
“You will go after Anchin. You cannot help but to.”
“You will not make me do anything against my will.”
Kiyohime laughed. She reached out from the glass wall and, using one of her scaly hands, forced Shizuru to look at her. “Human resolve is so breakable. Pure emotions are stronger.”
“What are you trying to do to me?” Her eyes were hard, unreadable.
Here another monstrous smirk was given. “Nothing you don’t want to.”
“You’re nothing but a broken record who keeps repeating the same phrases. I will not allow you to control me and continue the vicious cycle you have wrought for all these centuries.”
“Am I really controlling you? Am I really here? Or perhaps you are talking to yourself. Even if I wasn’t here, Fujino Shizuru, you would still think these same thoughts. My presence only strengthens the feelings you already have. You will go after her because you want to. You still belong to her. ”
“I belong to no one but myself. And I will do nothing as childish as pursuing a lost cause.”
“Continue lying to yourself. But I know what you really want to do.”
Shizuru chose not to reply. Instead she looked down, past the apparition, and into the city that stretched beyond her sight. The lights shined burned strong in modern-day Kyoto despite the extremely early hour. She could also see dimmer areas with only a few scattered lights about, indicating housing districts, and darker areas still which signified old landmarks such as temples. Everything else seemed so distant to her now, like it was some fantasy-world that she used to live in. She wished she had never gone to that cursed island, enrolled there, fallen in love, and gotten herself caught in this downward spiral of madness that she was certain would lead to her self-destruction. Her hand instinctively clutched her stomach wound where Kiyohime’s mark now resided.
That obviously wasn’t the right thing to do as the ghost lost her patience.
“YOU WILL GO AFTER ANCHIN!” She shriek loudly, reverting back into her revolting form. Her form disappeared from the glass and reappeared behind her. An inhumanly strong, monstrous arm wrapped around her neck, choking her tightly, crushing her—she couldn’t breathe, she felt everything slowly fading away—lifting her from the ground. Her feet dangled uselessly in the air. The mark burned her skin.
Shizuru tried her best to focus. She was the one in control. She would not lose to her disobedient Child. She felt her body relax under her and her stolen strength return to her. She had to concentrate in forcing the ghost to disappear.
Kiyohime let loose another ear-splitting scream and threw her to the side like a rag doll. Shizuru hit the back of her leather couch painfully. As she tried to calm her breathing, she dimly saw the ghost thrashed wildly, to and fro, clutching her head. Shizuru saw her room suddenly consumed in abyss-summoned flames. Their heat burned her from both inside and out. Sweat beaded down her face from the sheer intensity of the fire.
“HE WILL PAY! HE DESERVES TO STAY HERE FOREVER AND GRIEVE! I WON’T LET ANCHIN GO! HE WILL SEE EVERYTHING HE HAS CAUSED!”
She had enough of this. Wiping the blood from her lips, Shizuru managed to stand up. It was only through her determination that she managed to regain her bearings even though she had to lean against the wall to remain stable.
“Kiyohime, I order you to leave.”
The ghost-possessed Child could not disobey a direct command issued with deadly solemnity. She instantly went silent under her gaze that was colder than steel and disappeared. The flames left as well, leaving her room as it was before, as if nothing had ever transpired. It had all happened in her head.
Shizuru remained on her feet only through the sheer force of her will. After a few minutes had passed and she was certain she had regained the ability to walk, she sighed heavily and moved to her desk. She turned her laptop on. She would not be sleeping for what little remained of the night.
Even though she refused to think such thoughts, one did worm its way into her mind:
Save me. Anyone…Natsuki…
Back to Delirium Index - Back to Mai HiME Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction