Description – Was Suu always so accepting when she had to live at the lab?
Disclaimer – Clover doesn't belong to me.
A place just for you and me.
By miyamoto yui
I am not that kind of girl.
Who is this?
The girl watches her own hands thrash about along with the legs as if they're separate entities. It is quite violent but the crowd of people close in on her as she lies on her back. The light of the outside world dims with their heads coming closer and closer like they're going to operate on her.
Maybe…just maybe they'll take something away and replace it with something artificial. She is sure of it.
Someone puts something to her mouth.
Everything stops.
"Here's the place just for you," a static voice tells her.
The eyes open and she is in a space of white. It is a big box enclosing a garden, a golden swing, and other trinkets.
It looks like the outside world, but there is a feeling that is quite sterile. There is no vibration of life.
Everything sounds real though.
The birds are chirping. The water is rushing through even though she doesn't know where it is. She's turning her head as far as it can go. But when she blinks again, she sees the lines of where things and scenes have been put together. They are infused to look like they belong together, but the lines tell them apart, even if they're part of the same thing, like the silk roses with no scent.
Sitting up, she shivers and sneezes. Her legs refuse to move.
She sits on the cold floor of this massive cage as the ones with cloaks and lab coats watch her every move. It is quite disturbing, so she looks away immediately.
But there is no room for shame. After all, during the time she'd passed out, her clothes had been changed into something almost see-through. It's almost perverse in a way how clothes can make a girl look like a woman, appearing synthetically as if she'll grow up in mind too.
What sad, sad people do to special little girls…
She opens her mouth to shout, but grabs her throat with both of her hands. Nothing is coming out. Her eyes move all over the room as if they're dizzy.
"Where? Where?" the white-haired girl says with her frightened eyes.
Even though they're far away from them, she can smell the starch of their clothing.
"This is the last, evolved form of 'Angel' and she cannot perform for us?" a woman with a lab coat says while tapping her pen on her clipboard. The other lab coat wearers make a note and shake their heads. This is no good.
The elders eagerly wait, but are a little disgusted at the phenomenal voice they've purchased but can't hear right now.
The girl bends her head down in defeat and cries.
Time passes until she stops.
Someone comes in to change her clothes. She attempts to assault one of the people who's dressed in a white uniform. She grabs one of the men's pants, but her attempt for liberty is short-lived. They hold her wrists and change her clothing.
She's ripped her clothes, that's why.
When they are done, they leave after giving her food. She looks at the dish and breaks it. Slashing the sides of the large white box, she tries to break herself free.
Slash, slash. Drip, drip. Her hands are bleeding and the people in white restrain her. She wipes her hands on their shirts. They give her a pill to sedate her and once again, she is lifeless.
When she wakes up, the lights have been adjusted to nighttime. This time, she looks out the 'window' as it changes to the scenery of a moon.
Was that what it looked like? She's never seen it before.
After all, as far as she remembers, the outside world didn't have that much green anymore. There were abandoned houses with no people. Telephone lines for common people were disconnected because of the law. Only authorized people were the only ones who could move about from prefecture to prefecture without a permit.
Trains were only for those who worked from the government. Electrical devices replaced limbs and body parts. There were people made of wires, but had blood flow through them.
There was so much pollution that everyone was moved to use only half of the island and the 'dome' filtered everything. So, the real moon couldn't ever be seen.
"This is a box within a box," she whispers to herself.
But still…she wants to go 'outside'.
There are no seasons here. No wind or rain, even though there are sounds.
There are no smells. Where's the dew of the rain or the sting of summer heat?
There is nothing real.
Even the birds are mechanical.
Day after day, she tries something new and they stop her every time. Her space evolves with new items so that she won't hurt herself.
The doctors only come inside when they need to. Otherwise, they watch her through the camera just like the cloaked elders. One of them pretends to be her grandmother and says she will reward her if she is a good little girl.
"What is good?" she softly says to the phone.
"It means to follow everything," the aged voice answers.
I don't like that.
"Yes," she answers in resolve. It is not happy nor is it sad.
It is the sound of apathy.
What is there left to do? Her mom sold her. She's known she won't be back for her.
But she can't blame her mom for their poverty and for the power she possesses.
So what if she can lift things with her mind and do other unhuman things?
These are just like toys. Nothing truly special. There's nothing more, but the adults find it fascinating enough to take care of her in her bird cage.
And for the first time, though she does not know how old she is or how long she's been in this place that's created just for her, she climbs onto the golden swing. She sits down carefully, brushing her lacy, sky blue skirt under the pole with her hand. Then, she positions herself and grabs hold onto the handles.
Back and forth, back and forth.
Her legs move in this steady motion and she closes her eyes. She starts to sing.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she screams as she feels a burning sensation bursting from her back.
Her eyes are instantly filled with tears because of the excruciating pain. The lights blink and the doctors make notes as they look at her from below.
As drops of salt water from her eyes and face fall towards the ground, she sees those white things. They look soft and they float.
Feathers?
In deep shock, she blinks as she lets go of the handles.
The pain returns and pushes into her back once more. She is floating in mid-air, but she doesn't remember what happened when she touched the ground.
She wakes up and doesn't want to go up to that swing again.
But the doctors wait. Her grandmother wants to hear her, remembering the few sweet notes she had sung before her fall.
Shaking her head, she doesn't ever want to touch that place ever again…
…until she has a dream.
It is of someone's back. They are holding hands, but her eyes are looking straight into this person's back. The person's hands are very warm and lead her somewhere familiar yet new at the same time.
"I told you I could find you if you sang," the voice tenderly says.
She knows that it is a man's voice, but why does the hand feel like a woman's?
She wakes up in the middle of the night and stares up at the swing. After an hour, she slowly gets up and walks up towards that golden metal bar. Sitting on the swing once more, she is reminded of what happened before. Her hands are shaking but she sings again.
There are no words, just sounds: Sounds of longing, not belonging, and the continuing hope for freedom from herself.
When the mechanical wings come out, she continues to sing and she moves them at will even though it's painful. It makes her sing louder and louder. She can feel her heart beating rapidly, her blood rushing through her.
She stands up and starts to fly to the ground, gently landing with her right toe.
"This is who I am."
I am not special in the way they tell me I am. I am just someone who doesn't want to shut off my feelings and become like the people who watch me, but don't know how to live.
She looks at the swing above her. That is where she can start to 'feel and care' again.
She sings and sings until her voice grows hoarse. Then, there is a soft silence until her voice comes back again.
This marks that I am alive since I cannot see my reflection anymore.
She makes friends with someone she hears on the radio because she wants to hear other people's voices. But this woman caresses her soul in such a way that she has to talk to her, even if it's about things she doesn't know how to talk about.
If she cannot go out into the world, then she will make it come to her.
And just when things are clear and settling into place…
…the door opens.
A man appears before her with a warm face though he doesn't smile for her. She grins at him. She knows who this is and she knows what everything will mean from that moment onwards: Freedom.
A tear refuses to fall down her cheek though it invisibly does. After all, she's forgotten how to, but she's remembering how.
"My name is…"
I know who you are. I've been waiting for you, my Angel of Death.
You will bring me to the real place that is meant just for you and me.
Fighting through all the numbness, she starts to feel a stirring in her chest that calls out to this man.
Owari.
--
Author's note: I do not know why, but I suddenly felt like a Clover fic. I had always wanted to do a Suu that wasn't always quite calm, but one who showed her struggles and still kept her innocence. Yet, she is demented here, even with her loveliness.
There are times that I cannot erase the fact that I feel like Suu, no matter how much I try to fight it.
I hope you enjoyed this attempt at something Clamp, but from a different angle.
Love,
Yui
11/19/2006 5:59 AM – Los Angeles
11/19/2006 10:59 PM - Tokyo