Olvido, Chapter 2
+++
Cold.
Ryoga was brutally ripped from sleep.
Cold and wet.
A squeal of dismay, then he was launched out the window and into
a neighbor's yard. He stood up and shook himself. Then his clothes and
pack landed on top of him. Another squeal, of indignation this time, and
he glared back up at Akane's window just as it slid shut.
+++
Sumi no e no
Kishi ni yoru nami
Yoru sae ya
Yume no kayoi ji
Hito me yoku ran
Akane stretched and yawned. The sun slanted through her window
and she could see golden dust motes drifting lazily in her still room.
She rubbed her eyes then bounced out of bed. For a moment she glanced at
her desk; was she forgetting something? She shrugged and slid on her
happi coat. Even though the sun was shining, it was still a little
chilly.
Her family was sitting around the breakfast table when she bounded
up to wrap her arms around Soun's neck and gave him a small peck on the
cheek.
"Feeling better, Akane-chan?" She looked up into her sister's
bloodshot eyes.
"Of course, Kasumi-oneechan! Why shouldn't I be?" She gave her
father one last squeeze then sat down at the table. It was okaiyu, and one
of Akane's favorite dishes. Now if she could only make it herself. The
thought made her giggle, and she started eating.
"What's so funny, Akane?" Her father peered over his newspaper at
her.
"I can't cook," she exclaimed joyfully and raised her chopsticks
as if to salute the fact.
Her eldest sister took a sip of tea. Her voice barely a
murmur: "What ever makes you think that?"
"I can't cook, I can't swim, I can't sew, I'm nothing but an
uncute tomboy!" She laughed again, then resumed eating.
Nabiki's bowl came down with a clank. "I have to go." She was up
and out of the room before any of them could say a word. Akane ruefully
waved after her.
"Nabiki is always so busy; do you think she has a
boyfriend?" Akane gleefully peered into the countenances of her father and
sister. Kasumi's eyes were cast down into her bowl and Soun's newspaper
was raised over his face. The joy slowly went out of Akane's face
and she finished her meal in silence.
+++
"Moshi moshi. Tendo residence."
"Kasumi, it's Dr. Tofu."
"Hello, Doctor."
"Is something wrong, Kasumi? You sound strained."
"Last night was particularly hard, Doctor. Akane didn't get her
full dose of medicine last night."
"Ah, I'm very sorry. That's actually what I was calling
about. When can I see you again? T-to give you more medicine, of course. I
mean, by my measure, you're almost out."
"That is true. I'm not sure..."
"Can we m-meet for lunch?"
"I don't know... Father's out today, I don't have anyone..."
"Bring her."
"Are you sure?"
"She could probably use the fresh air. Besides, I haven't
examined her in a while; it would be good to see how she's doing."
"..."
"Kasumi? You could probably stand to get out of the house yourself."
"You're probably right, Doctor."
"And it would only be for a little while...what? You'll go?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"G-great! I mean, good. At the teriyaki place? In two hours?"
"Yes."
"And Kasumi? C-call me Ono-san, would you? Or Tofu?"
"No, Doctor."
"I see. I'm sorry."
"Yes, Doctor. I'll see you soon."
"Soon."
+++
Tofu set the phone down in its cradle. It was a victory, of
sorts. He ran his fingers down the ribcage of his display skeleton. The
dry bones were slightly rough to the touch, and he noticed a hairline
crack in one of them. Immediately he went to his cabinet for the powder he
used to repair the skeleton from time to time. He poured a small amount
into a bowl and splashed water onto it. Using a tongue depressor, he mixed
it into a watery paste. A small amount went over the crack, seeping into
the darkened area. He covered the front and back, then washed the rest of
the mixture down the drain. Too bad it wasn't as easy to fix real
people. A wry smile touched his lips and he ran his fingers over the
ridges of Betty's eyesockets. He carefully examined the skeleton for other
blemishes.
There were a few repaired breaks on the left fibia, one on the
clavicle, a small place on the back of the skull. Akane had done a number
on his office that day. It was actually the second time she had been in
that day. The first had been when Ryoga carried her in.
The fanged boy had placed her gently on his examination
table. She had regained consciousness only once since China, and only to
ask about Ranma. She was severely dehydrated and suffered from many deep
bruises and lacerations. When Ryoga told him about her various adventures,
it was amazed him that she wasn't paralyzed or dead. But then again, the
boy thought she was until she actually opened her eyes on the boat
back. Tofu patched her up and sent her home with him for rest. A
pinched-face Nabiki guided him both ways, but declined to speak a
word. Ryoga, on the other hand, was desperate to speak to someone,
apologizing to anyone that would listen. He had many bruises himself, and
even what looked to be a broken nose, but he didn't want treatment.
He ran his fingers over the skeleton's nose, or where the nose
should be. No, it had all been about Akane. Her father brought her in the
second time. She was wild-eyed and covered in blood. Soun was carrying
her in an awkward position, and Tofu realized that it was to restrain
her. It took only seconds to administer a sedative and determine that the
blood was all hers. Her pajama top was in shreds and almost soaked
through. He removed what little was left and found deep gouges along her
chest, coming together in the center. A small choking noise reminded him
of Soun's presence. The tall man was pale and breathing heavily.
"It would probably be better to wait in the next room, Tendo-san."
The words didn't seem to register, and Tofu could see the whites
of his eyes. He couldn't pull his gaze from his daughter's ruined
chest. Words finally came: "Her heart. She didn't want her heart." Tears
trickled down his cheeks. Tofu looked down at his own hands, already
covered in Akane's blood.
Snap.
It was bone dust covering his hands, not blood. Betty's left
humerus was shattered. He quickly straightened and tried to dust off his
hands, but they were sticky with sweat and the dust wouldn't budge.
He laid the remains of the arm on his table and shakily reached for
the cabinet that held his powder. He'd quickly repair the damage, then
make more medicine for Akane before meeting the sisters at noon.
More glue. More putting people back together.
+++
The storm of the night before had passed and the sky was a
bright, blazing blue. The low-hanging frenzy of power and telephone wires
segmented the blue, lending an abstract touch that contrasted with the old
feel of the neighborhood in an odd, yet pleasing way. It was one of the
few places left that had a majority of pre-war houses rather than the ugly
new concrete mode of construction. Progress had brought their destruction
more readily than the veil of fire rained down by warplanes. Prayer papers
rustled in the boughs of the budding plum trees in the yard surrounding a
small shrine. Few visitors graced the shrine these days, and the gong
stood silent for months at a time. There was an old man raking the rocks,
robes covered by a thick down coat to keep the chill off. Akane waved to
him as the sisters walked by, and he smiled and waved back. His face
darkened after they had passed and he slouched down, leaning on his rake
for support. Sometimes prayer didn't seem like it was enough. He shook his
head and added another ridge to his wave pattern in the rocks. The gong
chimed quietly. He turned toward the noise, but the shrine was empty. The
wind, he thought.
Kasumi noticed none of this. Walking purposefully toward their
destination, she was intent upon getting the chore done, then returning
home as soon as possible. She hated the feel of neighbors' eyes drilling
into them, then looking away when they saw her looking back. Poor Akane,
poor Kasumi, poor Tendo. Her jaw tightened and she walked a step faster.
Akane was trying to keep up with her sister, but the cracks in the
sidewalk seemed so huge and she was carefully stepping over each one. Her
jacket wasn't helping at all either; it was too big and it felt so
heavy. She frowned and fretted with the collar. Was this even her coat? It
seemed impossibly big.
Kasumi heard a small screech and whirled around to face her
sister. Akane was sitting on the ground, holding one knee and whimpering.
I shouldn't have dressed her in that skirt, she thought. It was one of
the few things that fit decently and Kasumi had even thought she looked
good today, if one didn't look too closely at the dark hollows beneath her
eyes.
She extended her hand to her fallen sister. "What happened?"
"The cracks! I wasn't looking and one got me!" Akane glared
accusingly at the sidewalk in front of her. She put her hand in her
sister's and let herself be pulled up. Kasumi knelt to examine Akane's
scraped knee. Her stomach felt slightly queasy at the sight of blood.
"It doesn't look too bad. We'll have the Doctor look at it when we
have lunch."
"Okay, Kasumi-oneechan." She noticed that she was leaving small drops
of blood behind her, like a trail. Perhaps that's all the cracks wanted,
she thought. She could understand being hungry. Kasumi halted suddenly.
Akane tugged on her sister's hand. "C'mon, we're almost there."
Kasumi felt the chill hand of dread grip the back of her neck. She was
so used to taking the old routes through the city, she didn't think ahead
of time. Her sister tugged at her hand again and she forced herself to
keep going. The darkened windows of Ucchan's scowled out from beneath
their beetling brow of awning. She purposefully looked away from them and
studied her sister. Akane smiled blithely back, intent upon lunch. Only
when they were past the vacant restaurant did Kasumi relax. They would
take a different route home, just to be sure, she thought.
The weathered sign squeaked and the awning rustled as a small
breeze whirled through, seeming to bid farewell to an old friend.
+++
"And one beef teriyaki for the miss." Akane happily accepted the
steaming bowl from the counter cook and skipped over to where Kasumi and
Tofu were sitting in a cramped corner. It was a new restaurant in town and
Kasumi was thankful for the unfamiliar faces. She ate from her bowl and
avoided the doctor's eyes.
"I heard you had an accident on the way here, Akane." She looked up
from her food and wordlessly showed him her knee. "Does it hurt?" She
shook her head and looked away. He turned to Kasumi. "Put some antiseptic
on it when you get home and it should be fine."
"Thank you, Doctor." She smiled at him without thinking and his
face lit up. Kasumi flushed and looked at her sister. Akane was shifting
nervously in her seat. "Bathroom, Akane-chan?" Akane nodded. "I think it's
in the back."
"Thanks, Oneechan." She smiled gratefully at her older sister, then
glanced nervously at Tofu who was looking at her speculatively. She
hurried away.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, I don't know why she's so nervous around
you. She was so fond of you before."
"Before Ranma, you mean." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Please, Doctor, don't mention his name." Her full attention was on
him now, food forgotten.
"Why, Kasumi? Don't you think it's about time that we face
it? She--you can't live like this forever. You look exhausted." He only
hoped that he would have the same strength after the crisis, after
everything was better. It would kill him to go back into his dithering
doctor routine once his task was done.
"I can't even begin to tell you." Kasumi's face suddenly looked
old beyond her years. "Last night Ryoga stopped by."
"It might be good for her to have visitors, you know."
"She thought he was P-chan."
"Oh." Ryoga's condition had been made known to him early on by an
angry Ranma, venting to him while getting his ankle wrapped.
"Then she got hysterical about her medicine. And she ruined the
plaster behind her desk, with all sorts of lines. She called them 'her
numbers.'" Kasumi was becoming distraught, the memory of the night
overwhelming her.
"There is a way out." Tofu found himself touching her hand
lightly. "Do you still have the number?"
She desperately wanted to deny it, but found herself nodding.
"They will help her get better, Kasumi. She can't stay on the
drugs forever. She's already been on them too long; I'd get my license
taken away if anyone found out about this." He searched her eyes for
affirmation.
"Please, Doctor. Tofu-san. Please just give me a little while
longer to decide." She was wavering, but not yet ready to forsake her
mother's honor. Or her own. He sighed and pulled out a bottle.
"This is enough for another two weeks. You must decide,
Kasumi. This isn't good for either of you." He reluctantly gave her the
bottle, which she immediately stowed in her purse.
"Thank you so much, Tofu-san." He found himself weakening under
her gaze and looked away...at Akane's cold bowl of teriyaki. Kasumi
followed his eyes and stiffened. A sick feeling rolled her lunch around
her stomach.
"Akane." They both stood up immediately and rushed toward the back.
+++
Akane sighed and pushed open the grimy red door to the
bathroom. It was a relief to be away from the man with the glasses. He
made her uneasy for some reason. The bathroom floor was badly tiled, with
the grouting rotting away and individual tiles missing in spots. Akane
ignored the filthy toilet and washed her hands in the sink. Slowly
scrubbing imaginary dirt away, she blankly gazed at the mirror.
Surprise crossed her features; something was attached to the
mirror. She carefully touched the dry thing, realizing it was a flower
taped to the mirror. Standing on her tip-toes, she peeled the tape off
and it tumbled into her hands, dry petals rasping against her
fingers. She raised it absently to her nose, but all she could smell was
dust. A wind rustled her hair and blew the flower out of her
hand. Suddenly she felt cold, like ice. Like ice skating. Her hand,
already descending to pluck the flower from the dirty tiles, froze. Ice
skating. He had been so nice.
A roaring filled her ears and she clapped her hands over them,
trying to shut it out, dirt and rocks were coming down all around her
and there wasn't anything she could do to help. Ice skating. Something.
It was there, but the chaos wouldn't let her get to it. "Please," she
whispered, and her voice screamed in her ears. Desperate to withstand
the storm, she fell to her knees. A sharp pain. Pain and blood. The sound
stopped and the quiet loomed large in its absence.
A small pool of blood was forming around her re-opened knee
wound. It flowed like a river in the cracked tile, a small rivulet
meeting up with the husk of the flower and dying it pink. It was
pretty. Akane reached to pick it up and something caught her eye. A dead
bird was lying huddled and broken under the sink. Its beak was slightly
open and waxy, and the black wings were twisted at the wrong angles.
Akane took in a sharp gasp of breath, scooped the flower up and backed
away from the dead thing. It had been looking at her. A breeze ruffled her
hair again and she looked for the source. It was the kind of window that
was slanted in such a way that birds could get in, but not out.
Frowning, she moved to open the window. Before her hand could
reach the latch, she saw a blur outside. Clutching the flower to her
chest, she forced the window open, ignoring the slight pain and splinters.
Pausing only a second, she vaulted out the window and landed with a slight
oomph outside. Another blur, from the other side of the street. Cars and
trucks obscured her vision for a moment, then traffic cleared
again. Satisfied that no more birds would get trapped in the filthy room,
she started across the street.
+++
The same old fear gripped Kasumi's heart. After feeling it so
many times, it should have dimmed, faded at least a little bit. But it was
still as bright and wicked as the day Akane came back from Jusendo.
Kasumi felt her jaw clench as she swung open the door, just a step
in front of Tofu. Blood. And she was seeing the room again, sheets
torn, mirror cracked, but only her sister was there, bloody, shredded
nightgown, all the stitches Dr. Tofu had done ripped open, and she
could only think, why? Why had she done this to herself? Then it
was all lost in a haze, rushing to get her father, asking where is
he? Where is..
"Kasumi?" Her vision cleared and she was only looking into a
bathroom. There was a small amount of blood on the tiles.
"Oh god, Akane!" She rushed in, flats clacking against the
tiles. The stalls were empty, and the window was gaping wide, torn almost
off its hinges. A cold breath of wind sighed into her face. The street
was crowded outside the window, traffic intense as people hurried
back to their jobs after lunch. A small break opened and Kasumi caught a
glimpse of Akane's yellow coat. Horns blared and the screeching of brakes
was punctuated by a collective gasp from the passers-by.
"NO! AKANE!" Kasumi wrenched herself away from the window and
through the swinging door, Tofu close behind her.
+++
"Did you see that?"
"I can't believe it!"
"What happened?"
"A truck, and that girl..."
Kasumi pushed through the tight crowd of people, almost ripping
them aside in her rush to get to her sister. Didn't they understand? Why
couldn't they move? Tears of fear and frustration spilled down her
cheeks. She finally pushed past the final line and stopped short. A
twisted ruin of a truck loomed behind Akane, its mishandled metal frame
forming peaks and spirals around her. Glass lay shattered on the ground
in a perfect arc around where the girl stood. Kasumi thought she
could see the yellow reflections of Akane's coat in the shards.
Akane walked toward her sister with a sunny smile. Kasumi felt
a strange buzzing in her head, and noted that the truck was for "Happy
Sunday Treat," a candy that was advertised with a big orange octopus.
Someone whistled behind her and she caught another fragment of speech:
"She was just standing there, and the truck smashed itself!"
"Look, isn't it pretty?" A dried flower tinted pink with blood
loomed large in Kasumi's face and she fainted into Tofu's arms.
+++
"Is she okay?"
"Yes, Akane, give her room to breathe."
"Why can't we go home?"
"I want to make sure she's all right."
"You just said she was okay!"
"Akane, please!"
"Akane..." Kasumi could see their heads turn towards her through
her eyelashes. "Akane, please wait in the other room for Dr. Tofu to
finish."
"But, Oneechan..." The flower was still in Akane's hands. Kasumi
closed her eyes again.
"Please wait in the other room." She heard a sigh and a door open
and close. Only then did she dare open her eyes again.
"Kasumi, what happened? How do you feel?" Dr Tofu came into
focus, worried eyes sending a twinge of guilt to her heart. He had been
so good, and her family was so troublesome.
"I'm fine, Doctor. But...did you happen to see the flower Akane was
holding?"
"Yes, it was just some dried flower."
"No." How could she tell him about the box under her bed? Was she
even sure it was the same flower? An image of the flower in Akane's hair,
worn while skating for ownership of her pet pig, came to Kasumi's mind. It
was the same. The box had to have been found. But when did Akane have
time? The door to her room was always locked. It all was too
much. Kasumi closed her eyes again.
"Kasumi? What do you mean?"
"It's nothing, Doctor. I should be getting home." She rose from
the table she had been placed on, slightly unsteady. Two hands came from
behind her to rest on her shoulders. Kasumi froze. The two hands slipped
silently away.
"There's something I should tell you." The doctor's voice held
only a hint of sorrow from her rejection. "Akane didn't smash that
truck."
Kasumi turned around, astonished. "But couldn't she...?" She had
seen many feats she thought impossible, so this didn't seem so out of the
ordinary.
"She might have been able to, but there were no signs of trauma
on her arms or legs. Kasumi, there weren't even glass shards on
her. She was totally untouched."
Kasumi remembered the perfect arc of glass radiating about a
meter from where Akane stood. "But who, then?"
"Nobody could say."
"What about the driver of the truck?"
"He was fine, only a few scratches." Kasumi couldn't quite put
her mind around it all. What had happened? The flower and the truck...
"Could Ryoga have done it?" Kasumi's voice held more hope than
Doctor Tofu could muster for himself.
"Possibly. And I suppose he could have wandered off later."
"Yes, that must have been it." A slight smile crept to Kasumi's
face. "Silly Ryoga, always wandering off."
Tofu stared absentmindedly at the back of her head. Did she
really think that? It was hard to tell exactly what Kasumi was thinking
these days. No witnesses had said anything about a bandanna-clad
fanged boy. Just a blur, then a crash, then the smile of the girl in
the yellow coat. They all agreed that she hadn't moved a muscle, but they
couldn't say exactly what happened.
Kasumi gathered her purse up and was almost to the door before
Tofu could shake off his thoughts. "Good-bye, Dr. Tofu." And she was gone.
"Tofu-san," he whispered to the door.
+++
Kaze o itami
Iwa utsu nami no
Onore nomi
Kudakete mono o
Omou koro kana
A shrill cry pierced the night air. For an instant the world was
quiet. A stray wind rustled the gingko trees and Mu Si drew his wrap close
around his shoulders. The stars were bright explosions of lights, taking
on their own wintry chill. He could feel the heat of the hut bleeding
around the door cracks, hot and wet enough to create a mist that beaded
and cooled on the back of his head. His glasses were still clear enough to
search out any disturbance in the forest. The baby's cries were clear and
steady, a relief. He allowed himself to blink.
The door eased open and a figure stepped out beside him.
"You didn't need to wait." It was Shan Pu.
"I wanted to." Mu Si didn't bother to look away from the
stars. "Was it healthy?"
"He's fine." Her voice was seeped with disappointment.
"Ah." Just a worthless boy, he thought.
Shan Pu wiped the sweat from her face and hands with a spare
birthing rag. The hut had been kept hot with a small furnace used to boil
the traditional tea given to the baby and mother to bond them forever. In
this case it was useless, as the baby was a boy and not given the tea.
He would be raised communally, without the privilege of a mother. Shan Pu
smiled. She had been robbed of the the privilige of a mother early; was
she really that much better than the village boys?
"It's late." He was right. The birth had taken a long time, and
she was exhausted. This was one of the governing functions pushed upon her by
Ke Lun, much to her own chagrin. Tribal law insisted that a leader be
present at all births, else they may be considered outlawed and the child
may be ignored. Shan Pu shook her head. It was silly, really. The sweet
stench of fresh blood and sweat still hung about her nostrils. The
mother's face, twisted first by pain then disappointment, a phantom
lurking behind her eyes. To think that she had once wanted a child. A
chill ran through her and she ran a palm over her own stomach, reassured
by its flatness.
"Are you okay?" She looked into the sheen of Mu Si's glasses.
"Shampoo fine!" She covered her mouth with her hand and looked
away, stricken by her own slip.
"Shan Pu? Why?" Shan Pu threw the birthing rag on the ground and
walked away from the hut. Why had she spoken in Japanese? She hadn't
bothered going back after Jusendo. What was there for her, anyway? She
angrily pushed some stray bamboo shoots out of the path. The mountain
had come down. She had seen it with her own eyes, though still clouded by
the egg spell. A beam of searing blue heat, then boulders and tree shards
crashing around her. Mu Si pulling her away, Ranma's cry still rendering
her immobile. Akane. Always Akane.
The day after had been murky yellow with a pall of dust hanging in the
air. Shan Pu shifted boulder after boulder, searching first with hope,
then with duty, then with despair. Nothing. Nothing at all. A low murmur
told her she was approaching the village. And now she was back here. A dog
raised its head to look at her, then went back to sleep. The huts were in
disrepair, more than a few just empty shells. The tribe was leaking away,
like a blood out of a dying vein. There weren't enough fighters to have
a tournament this year. She once thought that if Ranma had stayed he
would have helped her lead the tribe to glory. But now she had her doubts.
And the slow trickle continued. More and more people were seeking
out the city, away from the strong and strict traditions, where they could
make money and go shopping and not have to kill or farm to cook. Ling Ling
had sent her a card with a small photograph attached. Shan Pu could hardly
recognize her, streaks dyed into her hair, platform shoes and glitter
smeared on her face. But she also felt a twinge of jealousy. She looked
down at her hands. The birthing blood was gone, but the hard calluses
remained.
What had been the great glory that she was supposed to lead the
tribe to, anyway? A small curl of smoke rose out of the hole in the
chieftain's house, where she wasstaying. Ke Lun accompanied her, trained
her. But for what? She worked the calluses in her hands furiously. This
was familiar. Suddenly, Shan Pu was eight. She stood in front of the
warriors of the village, and they were so tall and strong. Some were
impossibly big and coarse, their strength in bearing providing the
backbone and pride of the village. Her mother had been
beautiful. Beautiful but weak. A healer, unable to protect herself, to
sense the tiger, forced from its usual hunting grounds by the harsh
winter. It hadn't been hard to kill the starving beast, but she hadn't
been fast enough. So she was standing in front of the warriors, clutching
the gift of the tiger's teeth so tightly in one hand that they pierced
her skin and dripped blood to the ground. Shan Pu had killed the tiger,
and they were proud. Their pride overshadowed her mother's death. They
had draped the raw tiger skin about her shoulders and given her the
teeth. The teeth that tore her mother's throat. Shan Pu, eight years old,
with a cape of bloody tiger fur, trying desperately not to cry in front of
the warriors. She would not show weakness and soil her mother's
memory. The drip of blood coming from her hand became a slow dribble.
At that moment, an Amazon princess was born.
So proud and beautiful, they told her. Surely she'd grow up to be
a great leader. She stood alone in the center of the village. What could
she do to save her village from modern times? And did she even want
to? Shan Pu shot one last disgusted look at her hands. Ling Ling's nails
were perfect in the picture.
Mu Si watched over Shan Pu's silent moon-framed silhouette. A
cold resignation settled over his eyes, shading and shaping her
figure. She was staring at her hands. So much fire had left the girl,
stolen by Jusendo's debacle. He had helped her through those hard days and
nights, digging through the rubble, searching for any sign of
anything. Anything at all. He watched her face become a mask of
neutrality. She hadn't even cried when he finally convinced her to leave
the mountain and come back to the village.
A sudden shiver shook her frame. Shan Pu looked up into the deep
black sky. The stars were never this bright in the city. But the city
could better drive away the cold. She finally gave up and shuffled
inside; there was much to do in the morning.
A pair of eyes, just visible behind thick glasses, watched her
door for almost an hour, before leaving his own puzzles for another day.
+++
A hand reached through the mist and slashed a streak through the
moisture on the mirror. The drippy-clear surface revealed an eye, part of
a nose, a fragment of mouth. Bits and pieces of a person. But what was
really there? What was the whole that is the sum of the parts? A closer
inspection showed the redness around the eyes, small lines stretching
across the forehead.
Who was she really? The dutiful eldest daughter of a samurai clan
wary of the modern age. The one to always count on. The keeper of her
sister. Another pass of her hand swiped a streak bisecting the
first. Kasumi peered into the X. She was all of these things, but did she
really want to be? A drippy smile appeared in the reflection. All of
these questions, like she had a choice. It was never an issue before
Jusendo. That time was just planning and waiting and going along for the
ride while she could. Happy insanity had reigned, each player almost
unwilling to let it end. Everyone knew that when it did, the good guys
would win and everyone would be happy, right?
But the end had come and instead of her graceful ascent into a
world all her own, she was left to pick up the pieces. The Saotomes,
suddenly hollow. Her father, withdrawn even farther into his
melancholy. All the friends and fiancees, gone almost as though they never
were there. Nabiki, trying desperately to follow them out of
Nerima. Akane. Several fragments of memory and feeling were evoked just by
mention of the name. Akane. A startling mix of intensity, a person that
could love and hate and forgive in one breath. Ranma never had a
chance. But instead of a moth to a flame, it was more akin to a flame with
a flame. Each made the other burn higher, and then the moths came,
swirling and tormenting until it all seemed to take on its own life, an
insane dance, too exciting to end. But it had. It had been too much. The
flames had devoured themselves, leaving Ranma...gone and Akane who might
be better off that way. Poor Akane. That's what everyone said, poor Akane.
But she just couldn't put any feeling into it.
A cool draft crept under the door and chilled her bare toes. She
turned from the crossed-out reflection and reached for her towel. Those
thoughts, like everything else, would have to wait. But for how long? She
wrapped one towel around her head, dabbing the moisture off her face. How
long until she had her own life and loves? A shaky hand wrapped another
towel around her body. Poor Akane? What about poor Kasumi? The stirring of
a deep resentment was quickly quelled. It was her sister. She must carry
on.
Akane was probably asleep by now, and needed her medicine. The
medicine sometimes seemed to be the only thing holding the house
together. Without it, Akane would have to be sent to an institution and
Kasumi would be free. But at what cost? Mother's face surfaced, with a
look of resentment and disapproval tainting her features. A part of her
rebelled at that though, Mother and her Japanese mores weren't taking
care of Akane, she was. Why did she have to be so tired and on guard all
the time? Father and Nabiki weren't helping, it was an every day struggle
and Kasumi felt she was losing. She felt stretched so thin, there wasn't
even enough Kasumi left to be called Kasumi any more. Maybe they would
have all been better off following Ranma.
The door to the furo slid shut, and only the swirl of the mist
that was her namesake was left behind.
+++
"And the only way to find you is to close my eyes."
The silence in Akane's room was only broken by her deep
breathing. A faint glow of moonlight touched her peaceful features,
highlighting her lashes, her blue-black hair. The only comparable thing of
beauty in the room was the flower on her desk. It had been dried well and
kept its shape. The faint stains, only now turning brown, enhanced its
mystery.
Footsteps and a sliver of light under the door broke the perfect
scene, and a sound, no louder than a sigh, escaped into the night.
Kasumi inched the door open, relieved when the hall light spilled
over Akane's sleeping face. She stepped into the room, holding her
tray. The offending flower was on Akane's desk and she snatched it up,
shoving it into a pocket in her apron. She would throw the thing into the
trash, she resolved. Along with the rest of the box, once she found where
it had gone. Nabiki must have done something with it, always snooping
where she didn't belong.
She carefully slid the covers down, revealing Akane's bruised
forearm. With practiced ease, she cleared the needle of air and pierced
her sister's skin. It was easy. Just more medicine and they'd live through
another day, undisturbed by past events. A vague frown crossed Kasumi's
features. Though the days hadn't been as peaceful lately. It would be
equally easy to give Akane a little too much, or to forget to clear the
air bubble. Then she would be free as she had never been before. Akane
stirred slightly and Kasumi quickly withdrew the empty syringe.
The needle, check. The tray, check. A rustle told her the flower
was still in her pocket, check. The other thoughts could be saved for
another time. Father still needed his bath drawn.
The door closed with a quiet click but the light in the hall was
enough to illuminate the now restless sleep of Akane. She rolled to her
side and curled up in a ball, shaking body reacting to the sudden
rush. The action was enough to reveal a small and slightly crumpled object
in her hand, until then hidden. It was a photograph, a bunch of smiling
teenagers on some beach. Two figures stood out, seemed distant from the
rest of the crowd. The covers were drawn up and tucked around the shaking
girl, hiding the photograph from view.
1) Fujiwara no Toshiyuki
The waves are gathered
On the shore of Sumi Bay,
And in the gathered night,
When in dreams I go to you,
I hide from people's eyes.
2) Minamoto no Shigeyuki
Like a driven wave,
Dashed by fierce winds on a rock,
So am I: alone
And crushed upon the shore,
Remembering what has been.
3) Tom Waits, Blind Love