Author's Note:
After a couple other pieces following New Year, New Life my muse decided to take a sabbatical, or perhaps ran screaming into the night. At least she decided to have her fun playing games with me. The only times she gave me ideas where when I was too busy to write them down. Then, when I could finally make time, she would prance away, laughing, taking my inspiration with her.
I was finally able to coax this story out of her. I hope it works and that you enjoy it. Both she and I would appreciate hearing your reactions and your thoughts.
I'd like to extend a special thank you to MahouLVH for encouragement, reading and suggestions and to Avadan232 for betaing this.
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This story is set in the same world as Rebirth and New Year, New Life, and fits between chapters 7 and 8 of the latter (namely, ``Entrance Exams'' and ``A Picture of Home'').
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Child of Doubt: Chapter 1
Natsuki's Worst Day
Today was definitely not her day, Natsuki thought to herself as she ate a meager, isolated lunch. It had started when she woke up. She had tossed and turned enough in her sleep to throw her covers and even her pillows to the floor of her dorm room. If this was due to any dream she might have had, she remembered none of it on waking, cold and alone.
Things did not improve at school when the teacher scolded her for not paying attention. Maybe she hadn't been as attentive as some, but at least she was here in class. And what did the Longshan culture of ancient China have to do with anything she'd ever need? College entrance exams were done and she'd been accepted to Fuuka University. Who would ever care about it? Well, there was at least one person to whom it mattered: their teacher. And that made it the class's concern as well. Maybe that was why he was overly sensitive to inattention.
``Miss Kuga, would you care to share what you find so amusing with the rest of the class?'' the teacher asked, implying that she should be interested in his lecture, not amused by other things.
``Sorry.'' Natsuki had accompanied this with a small bow apology while inwardly seething at her teacher.
What brought this on? Natsuki hadn't made any noise except for a surprised ``Oi!'' when hit by a note that a pair of her giggling classmates were passing back and forth while they made jokes about the ``Happy Happy Clover'' manga and it's author. The problem was that they were able to put on studious, quiet, attentive expressions by the time the teacher had turned around, while the surprised Natsuki had not. So she got blamed for the noise they were making. She may not have been paying close attention, but at least her inattention hadn't been bothering anyone else, unlike the giggling classmates who framed her. Natsuki's troubles hadn't ended with her scolding for not paying attention.
Things only got worse at lunch when Mai came up to apologize. Mikoto had eaten all three of the bentos she had made for their lunches. Mai had set them down and been distracted, and Mikoto, following her usual, ``see food, eat food,'' diet, had quickly finished them all off. She must have been even hungrier than usual. So Natsuki was forced to fall back on buying a sandwich at the cafeteria. She took this and a box of juice to a secluded patch of grass under the trees where she could be alone, away from the press of annoying people.
She sat down and opened her sandwich to find it mislabeled. Though the wrapper claimed a roast beef and mayonnaise sandwich, not a trace of her favorite condiment was to be found inside. There was no point in going back to the cafeteria now. She'd taken a bite already, and once she made it back through the annoying press of people, there would likely be almost nothing left for her to pick from, and those remnants would be no better than the sandwich in her hand.
Natsuki sighed and took another bite of her dry, flavorless meal and continued to brood. If only the weather would cooperate with her mood. It should be gray and dreary, as opposed to the sun cheerily shining down on her. At least the weather got the cold, uncaring part correct today. She took a sip of her juice, carefully rationing it so as not to have to choke down the last bites of her sandwich with nothing to wash it down.
As she ate, Natsuki's mind wandered over the unsatisfactory day so far. Her inattention hadn't been bothering anyone, and scolding she got for her classmates misdeeds was a miscarriage of justice. That phrase brought her mind back to the period drama she had watched on TV last night with Shizuru. It was one more interesting to Shizuru than her but still fun to watch together. The big event this episode had been one of the characters having a miscarriage. ``How common are miscarriages nowadays?'' Natsuki wondered. ``After all, with the advances of modern medicine...''
``Well,'' answered Shizuru, ``Mother had one when I was little.'' She went on to explain this happened when she was but a toddler, so she didn't remember much about it from that time, and it was not something the family talked much of, either.
Natsuki continued brooding as she took another flavorless bite, and a couple thoughts fell into place in her head. This was why Shizuru's mother was so kind to her, and why she treated her as a daughter: Natsuki was merely a surrogate for the baby Shizumi had lost. That explained things. Natsuki could never fathom why Shizumi had taken to her and treated her so nicely; she'd never done anything to deserve such treatment. Now she saw that it wasn't due to anything she was or did: she was merely a convenient vessel for Shizumi to pour her old and bottled feelings into. This strangely made her feel both better and worse: better in that she had figured out why she was treated this way, yet oddly worse as this gave proof to the belief she wasn't worth loving on her own merits.
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That afternoon between classes, one of the boys came up to her in the hall. ``Hey Miss Kuga, let's go share a snack at `Pan de Mie' after school,'' he suggested. The glare Natsuki gave him in answer should, by rights, have left him a solid pillar of ice. It didn't, but it came closer than Natsuki usually had of late. His eyes grew wide. ``Um... never mind. Sorry to bother you,'' he stammered and scampered off.
Natsuki stalked off, back to the classroom, her mood not at all improved. Here was someone else who saw her as something she wasn't. She wasn't some pretty girl to take on a date, nor was she a substitute for Shizumi's lost baby.
After school, Natsuki headed back to her dorm. She walked quickly, not from any urgency to get there, rather she wanted to get away from school and all the untrustworthy people there who wanted to make her something she was not.
Normally she would have taken her motorcycle out for a long ride to work off her frustration and to try to escape the thoughts banging around in her head. But she could not today. Her bike was in the shop getting a new clutch. Even working on that might have been a good distraction, but she really had no place to do the work. She also wanted it fixed more quickly than her spare time would allow, so she was forced to leave that job to the shop. Then again, if she was honest with herself, she'd never done this complex of a repair on her bike before. During the carnival she'd been too focused on avenging her mother to make time for it, and afterwards... Afterwards, she'd ended up spending the time she might have on the bike with Shizuru instead, so she'd never done more than simple, routine maintenance. And replacing a clutch was anything but that. Still, it rubbed her the wrong way to have to entrust her bike to someone else, no matter how qualified they might actually be. If she thought about it, she found it even more bothersome today than she did yesterday when she dropped off the bike.
As she walked, she gave the motorcycle shop a quick call to see if they were done. Had she been lucky, they just might have finished up and had her bike ready. Of course they hadn't. That fit in with the way the rest of the day was going.
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Natsuki got back to her dorm room, dropped her bag and collapsed face-first onto her bed. She hoped no-one would come knocking on her door. Mai would want to pry and ``help,'' and she wasn't ready for that. Plus, Mai probably still felt guilty about lunch, and Natsuki wasn't ready for that display of contrition.
She got up after a bit. It was too early to go to bed, and anyway, lying there moping wasn't doing any good. Maybe some gaming would help. She dug through a small pile in her closet and came up with her PSP. She kept digging until she found some games and the charger; she wasn't sure how much charge was left in the battery. She'd never bothered setting up a full game console and TV after moving into her own dorm room. This hand-held had been good enough for the little time she actually spent here. She picked Tekken 5 out of her small collection. It would give her plenty of opportunity to take out her aggressions beating up opponents, and it also would require enough concentration to keep her mind from wandering. She sat on the floor, leaning against her bed, and fired up the game. Losing herself in this game helped keep her mind from brooding, and the fighting was therapeutic.
A several levels later, Natsuki's phone rang. Out of habit, she paused the game and answered. ``Hello?''
``Natsuki? How are you doing?''
``Hi, Shizuru.'' Natsuki tried to be cheerful, but Shizuru could tell it still wasn't her normal self. She made a guess at the cause.
``I suppose your motorcycle is still in the shop.''
``Yeah.''
``That's too bad. You said it might possibly be done today, so I decided to hope it was.'' Shizuru's voice conveyed her disappointment. ``Does this mean you won't be coming over tonight?''
``Yeah, I won't.'' Natsuki paused, realizing she should say more. ``I'm sorry. They're not done, and the rest of the day sucked too. I'm not fit company for anyone right now.''
``I'm sorry.'' Even in her current state, Natsuki could feel Shizuru's compassion over the phone. ``Would talking about it help? If it would, my time and my ear are yours.'' Shizuru remembered how Natsuki's understanding listening had helped her, and wanted to do the same if she could.
``No. Sorry.'' Natsuki could imagine the disappointment on Shizuru's face. ``Maybe later.''
``It's all right. You know I'm always here for you.'' Shizuru hoped she could help later, and she had years of experience in waiting.
Natsuki mumbled something incomprehensible in agreement.
Neither said anything for a while, yet somehow each found the others mere presence on the other end of the phone comforting. Finally, Shizuru broke the silence.
``Well, I suppose I should let you get back to whatever you're doing.''
``Yeah. Thanks.''
``I hope tomorrow goes better for you. And remember, I love you.''
``You too,'' said Natsuki. She closed the phone and looked at it for a while. She really did still care for—no, truly love—Shizuru, but she didn't know how to tell her what she'd figured out about Shizumi and her lost baby... or if she even should.
Natsuki went back to her game, glad she didn't have to worry about running out of battery. This was going to be a long night.
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Several more matches into the game, a knock on Natsuki's door interrupted her playing. She paused the game and walked grumbling to the door.
``What?'' she barked opening the door to see who was there.
Mai stood there, holding a tray with a bowl of steaming hot ramen. ``Here,'' she said, extending the tray toward Natsuki. ``I heard you had a bad day and might be skipping dinner. You can get the bowl and tray back to me when you have time.'' She didn't push Natsuki to talk, or even try to find out about her bad day, neither did she push any apologies for Mikoto's lunch theft onto Natsuki. She merely gave her a friendly, supportive smile and waited for her to take the tray with her dinner.
``Thanks,'' mumbled Natsuki, finally taking the tray from Mai.
``You're welcome. Enjoy.'' Mai gave her another smile and headed off, as if she somehow knew that sticking around would just make Natsuki's day that much worse.
Natsuki closed the door behind her with her foot and took her dinner over to her desk. She sat down there and began to eat with the chopsticks Mai had also included on the tray.
The ramen was tasty, as Mai's always was, but Natsuki didn't take time to savor it slowly. She ate quickly so she could get back to her game, not so much because the game itself was fascinating, but rather because sitting here eating gave her brain too much leeway to think and bring up things to bother her. Today had been filled with lessons on how people couldn't be trusted—she pointedly ignored Mai's kindness here. It really bothered Natsuki how she'd misread Shizumi's consideration as actually caring for her, instead of finding a replacement for her lost child in Natsuki.
Natsuki quickly finished, wiped her mouth and went back to her game. It demanded enough concentration that she could shut out bothersome thoughts and memories.
Many matches and stages later, Natsuki found herself slowing down and starting to lose concentration. Hopefully she was now tired enough her body would take her right to sleep instead of letting her brain keep her up with a steady barrage of thoughts and worries.
Even so, Natsuki had a tough time falling asleep.
Author's Note:
I used the phrase ``miscarriage of justice'' above for a segue in Natsuki's thoughts. Her actual thought process would follow a slightly different path, as the idiom ``miscarriage of justice'' isn't used in Japanese. Natsuki's train of thought actually followed from the Japanese reading of the name of the Longshan culture, Ryuuzan, as it is pronounced the same as the Japanese word for miscarriage. This thought was only strengthened by her classmates tittering over the cute manga ``Happy Happy Clover.'' They found it very amusing that its author's name, Ryuuzan Sayuri, was also a homonym for the Longshan culture, and thus yet another homonym for miscarriage. I figured it would flow better to use this English segue, as it somewhat fits, rather than interrupt the flow of the story with this full explanation of the Japanese terms.
