Disclaimer: not mine, and I don't want to own either Kayako or her son either. They can happily stay with Shimizu and whoever else owns them.
Spoilers: mostly the first cinematic movie, some references to the first video movie
Summary: Just what is it about Rika that Kayako didn't just go ahead and kill her (for years)?


Circles
by Kadira (December 2006)

I.

There is no sense of space or time, or even count of the people who visit her, the people she takes. Days and night, life and death pass by her, barely touching her. In fact, there are only a few things that are still strong enough to gain her awareness.

One of those things is Toshio, her precious, little son, who helps her and is with her at all times.

Another one is He, the one she just can't escape, no matter how powerful she is and how hard she tries. Most of the time he is silent, lies low, hides somewhere. But sometimes, sometimes she can feel him at the edges of her conscious, like a sharp knife that is turned around in a barely healed wound, reminding her that they aren't alone. She does her best to ignore him. Him, and the fear that still renders her helpless, and to focus on the rage he has awoken within her.

The third thing that manages to break through the fog of her eternal existence is the rage, which is stronger than anything, more so than Toshio and his presence ever could be. It's the one thing that gives her being a purpose and sense. It's what makes her strong and powerful, and what makes the waiting worthwhile, even exciting.

But suddenly there had been a fourth factor that touched her. Not just in passing, but cutting and powerful, almost devouring her, dangerous. For her, for all of them.

Kayako has realized it the moment their eyes had locked for the first time, much like they do now. She hadn't understood it then. Neither of them had. Kayako isn't even sure if she understands it now, not fully, but she can tell the exact moment when Rika knows and understands what is happening.

She has observed Rika for so long that she just knows it when their gazes lock in the mirror, the first direct contact in forever, despite that the girl had shared so much with her for so long.

There's shock in Rika's eyes, enough to replace the fear, at least temporary, but there's also an understanding of the kind only the fewest people ever will get a chance to experience. On a certain level it fills Kayako with satisfaction, feeds her almost better than her rage, because she knows that it is her doing.

Kayako had known that she would get to the point. After all, she had been with Rika all the way, at least a part of her, ever since the girl had invaded her home first.

She remembers the first time their eyes had locked the same way, the shock and the fear the girl had radiated then, much like now, but without the understanding.

II.

At first she had wanted to kill the girl, had felt the strong urge to destroy her, to take her life, like she had done with the other intruders, like she did to the old woman in a vain attempt to ease the rage that boiled within her and was her sole reason for existence since... since forever.

She can barely remember life before the rage. Sometimes there are faint images and memories that rush over and through her, sounds and feelings, too fleeting as that she could grasp them. In the end, they leave only more emptiness and more anger, urge her to find yet another person, to see more blood and fear when she takes their life, drinks from them to be temporary sated and to feel the faint echo of their life for the briefest moment.

But then there had been the girl.

Toshio had seen her first, had observed her, but she had been the one to make contact with him, had freed him from the wardrobe where the stupid man had imprisoned him because he wasn't his son.

Like Takeo. A mirror image of him. And just like Kayako then, the woman had been too weak to fight him, had allowed him to kill her and to do that to their, no, to her, son. They had deserved to die. Just like the old woman who had tried to warn them.

But the girl had been different. Scared but kind. A different sort of kind than the one Kayako had got to known all her life, first from her classmates, then, later, even stronger, from Takeo, who thought she had to be grateful that he married her -- the shy, nondescript Kayako -- and had never failed to remind her of that. And then again from their neighbors and worse, from Kobayashi, even after her death, even after she had bared his heart to him.

The kindness of the girl had been different. It had seemed real. The old, foolish woman wasn't just another job for her, and her worry for Toshio hadn't been an act.

It had fascinated Kayako, had drawn her to the girl, had made her wanted to kill her and to drink her essence, so that maybe she would understand that what couldn't possible be real, not in her world.

She had driven on the fear and confusion the girl had radiated when their eyes had locked for the first time, before the girl had passed out.

But then, once she had finished the old woman, had drunken the rest of her dying life essence, bitter as it had become by prolonged resigned-fear and age, and had turned her attention to the girl on the ground, she couldn't do it anymore.

There was just something about her, and Kayako had been drawn to do it, even if she couldn't say what it was. It was no sense of identifying, but maybe that she seemed really alive. Not just a mere shadow, like most of the people that came to Kayako, but alive in every sense of the word, with a clear purpose in life. The girl was everything her mother had wished for Kayako to be, but which had been denied her the whole time.

So instead of killing her, Kayako had resisted the craving of the rage for the first time in years, had withstand the call of the blood and her anger and had opted to explore it further, to try to understand. She could always kill her later, after all, she'd thought, before framing the girl's head with her hands.

"Mommy, what are you doing?" Toshio had asked, a layer of terror in his voice once he realized what his mother was about to do. "You promised me that we would be together forever," pleading, demanding, eyes burning, in a way only a child could, something not even the curse could take away from him.

The eternal child, and Kayako is never sure if she should envy him or feel remorse. Mostly the former wins. After all, he would never have to deal with the coldness outside, would never have to deal with being ridiculed or become a victim. He would never turn into his father. He would always be her precious little boy.

"Don't worry, we will. You can be with me all the time. Either here or join me there, with her," she had explained him, patiently, because if there's one thing in the world she still knew how to love, it was her Toshio.

I just need to do this, need to try to feel alive, this one last time. Temporary. She didn't try to explain it, because Toshio wouldn't understand, even less than Kayako. This here was all he knew. He was too little to remember that there was more to life than pain and the urge to kill and to feed. Besides, it wouldn't last long then the girl wouldn't be more than a memory, living on in her through her life-force, at least until the taste would fade and Kayako needed something more, something stronger, something more alive.

III.

Kayako has been sure that it wouldn't last long. Nothing held her interest for long anymore, certainly no human, not beyond their original purpose -- to feed and sooth the rage within her.

And she has tried, has pulled herself out of the girl once she got to taste life again, including the annoying questions of the policeman and the girl's confusion at his reaction to Toshio.

So, the night after Rika's release from the hospital, Kayako leaves her body and leans over her, Toshio at her side. She lowers her head, to do what she has been reborn to do, just without the fear and the blood, because for some reason she can't bear the thought of finishing the girl the same way like her other victims. Not after everything she has learned about Rika, not now that she knows how she feels, who she is, and that there is no pretence to either her or her kindness.

But Kayako knows that she has to do it. If anything, the last days have shown her that this isn't good. She can't say why, just that she has to stop it, that this...whatever it is, awakes feelings within her that aren't good, that they are dangerous for...somebody.

Yet, in the end, with a last look at the peacefully sleeping features of Rika, she resigns herself and follows the one urge that is stronger than her hunger.

Just feeling alive for a little bit longer, to be with her for some more time, to feel life through her, to feel her.

When she looks at Toshio, it isn't to ask for his permission, but maybe his understanding, because she can't help herself, because for all her power she is too weak to resist the lure of life and the girl below her. She just has to do this.

Toshio smiles at her. "Don't worry, mommy. I will be with you. Forever."

She feels the mattress shifting as Toshio makes himself comfortable on the bed, while Kayako curls around the girl, wraps her arms around her, breathes into her warmth without really feeling it.

For a moment, she can feel the girl stiffening, as if she senses that something is wrong, but then she settles back, even shifts a bit until the two of them are pressed close together and she accepts Kayako's presence as something that just is.

There's the faintest hint of a smile on Kayako's face, as she raises a hand and lets it wander over the girl's hair, not quite touching it, just enough that she can feel the short strands against her skin.

When they become one again, Kayako thinks that it is like living, feeling and sensing. Almost. Just a faint comparison, but it is so much more than Kayako ever dreamt of having again, maybe even more than she ever had.

IV.

From that night on, Kayako had stuck to Rika, had accompanied her to school, experiencing for once how it felt not being bullied or laughed at, had went to the cinema with her, had made homework with her, had gone to work with her, and had met the friends she herself never had.

Kayako not only shared a body with Rika, but also her life, her nights, her dreams. Almost like one person, one unbreakable unit.

Almost, because she holds herself in the background, never comes to the surface or invades Rika's decisions. Apart from that one time, when Mariko had asked her out and Rika had refused, telling her that she needed to prepare for a test.

Once they were alone, Kayako had pushed, had used her power, and so had manipulated Rika into calling Mariko and telling her that she had a change of mind. But Rika's will was strong and the girl had felt that something was off. She had sounded so confused on the phone that her friend had worried.

It hadn't changed anything, of course. In the end, the girl had prepared herself for the evening and they had gone out. First having dinner in some lovely restaurant, followed by a night filled with dancing and laughing.

It has been perfect.

And a first time for Kayako.

Like so many other things.

She loved the feeling of being surrounded by people who not only accepted her, but wholiked her.

Only, it isn't her as Kayako remembers in the quieter times, when it is just the two of them, but Rika. Kayako doesn't mind it. Not much.

Most of the time, she's happy, maybe happier than any other time in her life.

But there is still the hunger within her, which becomes especially strong when she remembers that this is the life that maybe could have been hers, if it hadn't been for Takeo. Then the hunger returns, along with the all-consuming rage. The thirst for blood and death instead of life and living, and because she can't take Rika

not yet, but soon, she promises herself (and Toshio) over and over again. As soon as she has drunken enough of her, has satisfied her curiosity and her desire for something that isn't hers anymore. After all, then the girl would be just another victim, no more than a temporary distraction.

she finds others. Or they find her. It really doesn't matter either way. Only the hunger and the blood and death do.

V.

The first time she feeds after she became one with Rika it is an old man, who seeks refuge in her house from the rain outside. He reeks of cheap Sake, of the street, of dirt and vomit. A homeless wanderer who dares to intrude in her home, despite the legends that have started to keep people away.

There is not much pleasure in killing him. Not even the fear she needs. After all, he comes to her, into her bedroom, lies down on her bed.

He doesn't even jump when he sees Toshio, only slurs a 'sorry, didn't know anyone was home' and closes his eyes. She waits patiently at his side until he wakes up again. It is so much better when they are fully awake, and if she has one thing left in this existence, it is time. More than she will ever need.

Yet, when the man opens his eyes next, his mind is still fogged by too much alcohol and his voice is unsteady when he asks her: "Are you an angel?" Then looking closer, he grins a toothless grin and reaches out with an unsteady hand, as if wanting to touch her. "No, not an angel. Maybe a demon?"

Then he laughs. It's a strange hollow laugh, which Kayako knows only too well. It's the laugh of people who have nothing to lose anymore, whose being alive is more an accident than anything else "Doesn't matter," he says when Kayako moans, tries to do so, because it's a sound that has been denied to her forever, which Takeo has crushed and taken away from her for good. He opens his mostly empty Sake bottle and finishes it in one gulp. "I have been looking for you."

I have been looking for death, Kayako translates his words.

The feeding is mediocre at best, because while there is no fear and no fight, there is no understanding either. He is a lost soul, who has no idea what is happening to him, of what he is about to lose, and almost joyfully embraces his fate. He becomes part of the curse without that Kayako even tries to claim him.

The second time is after Kayako becomes careless and the girl almost notes her on a conscious level. Rika has been in the shower, and Kayako couldn't withstand the temptation to become a bit more present, to feel a bit more, no matter if of the drops of water, or the soft hair, shorter than her own, or just of the act of washing herself, of being more real, of feeling and being with her host, for once a bit more than usually.

The girl has been scared, and Kayako had no other choice but to vanish temporary. It's just as well, because Rika's fear has awoken the familiar hunger within Kayako, with a force she can hardly contain.

The same night she has another visitor in her house. A former policeman. Through the fog of his life force and her hunger, she identifies him as the one who has never found her killer, who has never even tried to bring Takeo to justice, and worse, who just hadn't cared about her or Toshio. She wanted to take him then already, but time didn't matter much, just the hunger did, so she had forgotten about him until now.

His fear is delicious and instead of burning down her house, he ends up cowering in a corner, whining like a baby. A real feast. Not that the other two that try to rescue him aren't. In fact, they are younger, more surprised, more scared and they will last her a very long time.

As for the policeman, Toyama, she thinks is his name, she will get him eventually. There is no escape. Not from her. Never. It's one of the few things she just knows. No boundaries and no limits, not for her, not anymore.

When she returns that night to the girl, she feels warm and almost content as she curls around the warm body, wraps herself around Rika. It is by now such a familiar action -- for both of them, however unintentionally for Rika -- that the girl presses back against Kayako, almost as if inviting her in.

Kayako gracefully accepts the invitation and becomes one with the girl again under Toshio's watchful eyes, who sits beside the bed, cuddling his cat.

VI.

"Mommy, I can feel him. He's becoming stronger again. And he seems so angry. Mommy, I think daddy's coming home!" Low and desperate. She knows that Toshio is afraid, can almost feel it. She is it, too, as suddenly everything comes crashing down on her again, all the pain, all the humiliation, all the blood.

Kayako freezes within Rika at the news.

Too soon.

Too early.

She's by far not finished living yet.

And she knows why he's here. She knows what he wants to do. He must have felt her, what she is doing, must have been on the look for her, which also meant that he knows.

He must have been waiting for just the right moment to strike, because if he has only learned one thing during ... this, it is patience.

It also means that she has to act. One way or the other. As much time as she thought she had, she has just run out of it.

Carefully, she lets go off the sleeping body, not completely, because the thought of breaking the connection entirely, the warmth that has become her line to life, is just too much to bear.

Yet she has to go. Has to do something. Anything, even if she has no idea what. Well, she knows what would get him off her back again, at least temporary, but that is an option she doesn't even want to consider. Not now. It is too early. She is by far not finished

you'll never be. The temptation is too much, the pull of life, even if it is second hand, is just too strong

She shakes her head, and a groan escapes her, as she loses control over herself for a moment. It fills the air in the room, almost electrifies it.

Her hand hushes over the black hair in a soothing motion when Rika starts to toss around in the bed, a reaction to the sound, her eyelids fluttering. Even without going any deeper into her consciousness, Kayako knows that she is dreaming about her, their first meeting.

Most of the time when Kayako is with her, she holds the dreams at bay. She doesn't need to see herself doing what she does best, certainly not when there are so much more pleasant dreams they could share, and because as long as Rika doesn't dream, she won't remember what happened in the short moment she regained conscious, before Kayako went into her, to share her life with her.

It made things much easier, for all of them.

Shh, sleep, she tells her without words, still too shaken by the news as that she could trust her voice to work for once. Everything is fine. It's just a dream. Everything will be all right.

It's almost a singsong that she keeps repeating, and finally Rika settles down again, succumbs once more to sleep.

To her right, Kayako can see Toshio sitting on the bed, clutching a softly mewling Mar to his chest.

Her eyes wander from Toshio back to the girl.

No, there must be another way. She wouldn't allow Takeo to take this away from her as well.

VII.

"There's already one problem kid in my new class. He hasn't come to school once!"

"And his parents?"

"That's the problem. I can't contact them."

"Well, there must be some kind of reason..."

"At least they could return my calls. I want to finish my home visits!"

Kayako can feel Rika struggling against her hold, can feel her natural curiosity winning over, as she wants to ask for the boy's name.

Not yet. You don't need to know. You don't want to know, she tries, because it's too early. But when her hold weakens even further, she nods at Toshio, allows him to let the cat go. Not what she'd have preferred, not after all the time they'd spent together, but she can't allow it to go on. The answer would ruin everything and nothing like some fear to distract effectively.

She closes her eyes for a second as Rika looks under the table, her their eyes locking with Toshio's and the girl falls back with a strangled scream.

That should do for now.

VIII.

Call her. Call Rika. Tell her that you are here.

For a moment, the girl looks confused, then with a last look at Toshio, takes her cell phone and dials the number.

Kayako listens absently to the talk. It's of no real interest to her. She just waits, waits for things to take their course, as they would, without doubt. Just as always. Only the outcome is different now. Undecided. This is not a situation she is even remotely familiar with, nor can she say what she really wants. Not anymore.

"There's no one here but the boy. His parents haven't come home."

If she could, she would laugh at the ignorance. Not that the girl could know any better. She couldn't know that she had a child on her list that has ceased to exist years ago already, and that she would be so much better off, if she would never meet his parents. Not that it would make a difference now. The girl's destiny is sealed, just like hers had been at that fateful day, or Toshio's, or that of all the people who had come to Kayako before today, some of them lured into the trap, some of them having walked in by accident and some of them just by sheer stupidity.

"I've been here for an hour."

Complaining, yet there's also worry. Nothing of the kind Rika had displayed so long ago. For this girl -- Mariko -- they are nothing more than a nuisance, a case she wants to wrap up as soon as possible so that she can go on with her life. There is no emotional involvement. Just business.

Soon she wouldn't need to worry about wasting her time anymore.

Kayako smiles as she hears the bewildered "Hey, Rika!" followed by an even more confused "Toshio", once the connection is cut.

The game has started. Again.

IX.

Kayako can feel Rika even before she has entered the house. It's a welcome feeling that calls to her and washes over her, almost wraps around her in a false sense of security. But she knows that it is just one-sided, at least on a conscious level.

So far, Rika has no idea what happened to her. She might have felt occasionally that something was off, but Kayako has always been fast enough to smoother any doubts and fears, so that the girl has no idea that Kayako has always been with her, no matter where or what they had done, that they had been one inseparable unit.

"Mariko!"

Kayako closes her eyes when she hears that voice, which has become like an extension of her own during the last years. And she waits, patiently; because there's only one way Rika can go now -- following the trace of her already dead friend.

And when their eyes finally meet, this time without obstruction, without anything to hinder the clear view, she can feel the panic radiating from Rika, can sense it taking possession over her, to an extent that not even the part of her that she has still left within the girl can calm her anymore.

Not that it is still necessary. This time it's everything or nothing.

But Rika's fear speaks to the rage within Kayako, makes the hunger feel so much sharper as she bathes in the terror of the supposed prey.

But not yet. Not if she can prevent it. She has other plans for the girl. Maybe. Hopefully. The girl, Kayako knows now, even if she still can't really explain it, is the key, the solution for everything, something she has built to for the last years, ever since Rika had come to her first.

The girl is hers, one way or the other, and nobody, nobody would stop her, not even the ever-growing presence of him, who is slowly closing in, like another predator that has sensed its prey, like she does normally.

Like she does now. But now it is a different hunt, a hunt for something she can't quite put her finger on. She just wants for the girl to understand, everything that happened up to now, every moment that has lead to this. Just like Kayako slowly understands as she follows the girl, and they, for a mere moment, just look at each other in the mirror.

The shock in Rika's eyes replaces the fear, at least temporary, but there's also a sense of wonder, and the strange kind of understanding, which probably neither of them would ever be able to explain, but which is there, a part of the bond that has built between them throughout the last years, frail yet strong and undeniable there.

The fear returns when Kayako goes the last step and leaves her body, separates them for good, however hard it is for her, because she has done whatever she could. The rest is on Rika.

But beyond the fear there is more, still a sense of wonder and understanding, which Kayako can feel when she crawls down the stairs, forces her broken body to move the only way she can in this goddamn house, bathed in blood.

There's so much blood that Kayako can never tell, which is hers and which that of the others. She doesn't care either, because all she wants is to be free of it, to be clean once more.

At the end of the stairs, she reaches out for Rika, tries to will her to take her hand, then, when it doesn't work, moves even closer and when she's right in front of her, she shows her --

-- everything.

What she has done and when, each and everyone of her victims and how they had died, their fear and the blood they had spilled for her, and how they got entangled in the web around them. Kayako shows her their first meeting, awakes the memory of them becoming one, how Kayako has always been with her since then.

She shows Rika the past that she can't touch and doesn't really dare to think about, shows her Kobayashi and how much he loathed her even when she was dead already. She shows Rika that what happened before, Takeo and the injustice done to her, which had started everything.

Kayako shows her how she tried to escape and how desperately she tried to ease the rage and how hard she had tried not to drown in it, yet lost. At least until Rika, and in the end it all came back to it, to her, to them. The circle that, just maybe, would finally be broken.

When she is finished, there's still fear, but something else, too, something that goes deeper than Rika's previous understanding, an emotion that has been denied Kayako for so very long, and which settles everything.

There won't be any more killings. Not Rika, nor anyone else. Never again. There is no need for it. Not anymore. She could finally rest in peace, without the rage and the hunger that consumes her, without the blood.

Kayako closes her eyes and there's the faint ghost of a smile on her face when she feels herself dissolving.

When she opens them again, she's back in the room she has left only a short time earlier. Even before she hears the heavy footsteps coming along the ground, first faint, then louder, angrier and heavier, she knows that something is wrong. And if she could have screamed she would, as a warning, to voice her pain, to hold him back, just ... anything. But there is nothing. Not even the faintest tone passes her lips, and she's left alone with his cold sneer as he comes to a hold in the room. "You'll never get away from me."

The worst is that she can't argue, that she can't speak against him, that she can't even scream as he passes her and approaches the stairs, his features blank and the same malice in his eyes he had shown then.

And just like then, the air fills with confusion that almost immediately turns into fear when Rika realizes what is happening.

Kayako feels the pain of the girl as if it is her own, feels as if she is killed again, experiences every bit of pain as she had then, when Takeo kills Rika the same way he had killed her.

She tries to scream -- in pain, in rage, in and for everything she has lost and was still loosing, for something she had never done. At being ignored again, at getting taken away the comfort of emotions other than the empty and burning rage that drives her, of a warmth that she has almost forgotten existed, of being felt for and of feeling.

It seems to last forever, and when it is finally over, and Takeo returns to the room again, pulling a lifeless Rika after him, there's for a moment just numbness left when her eyes meet Rika's dead ones and their gazes lock for a last time.

Takeo dumps the body in front of Kayako as if she wouldn't be more than a bag. "History repeats itself, doesn't it, Kayako?" he asks her, still sneering. "First your beloved Kobayashi and now the girl. It will continue. You'll never escape. You're mine. Here and now and forever, sharing the fate you have brought up on us. I will never allow you to get away. I will kill everyone who becomes dear enough to you that you can't kill the person, everyone who feels something else than fear and loathing for you."

And with that he just vanishes, leaves her alone with the broken gaze of her last chance, his cold laugh still ringing in her ears. For a long moment she just sits there, to numb to do anything else, unable even to take her eyes away from the dead body of the girl who had shared her life with Kayako for so long, who had allowed her to feel and to live again, but who now was nothing more than another corpse, devoid of any life.

Yes, Takeo would make sure that she was really dead. He wouldn't want her around, not even as part of this, wouldn't allow Kayako even the comfort of having a familiar face with her, certainly not that of a person who had almost helped her to escape. Rika's spirit is gone and all that is left is spilled blood and flesh and lifeless, dark eyes. A soulless body.

X.

"Daddy's gone. He killed the girl. I liked her. Did he hurt you as well, mommy?" she hears her son's soft voice. When she opens her eyes, he is sitting beside her in the attic, arms wrapped around his knees. "I thought he couldn't do that anymore, that's what you said." There's sadness and worry and accusation, all at once in his voice, and coldness when Toshio wraps his arms around her. It has been that way since she can remember, since she followed up on her promise that they would be together forever very soon, that she would always be with him.

But she also remembers her words to Toshio now. A promise. And she had been sure about it. But he just wouldn't go away, not even in death, wouldn't leave her and Toshio alone. Even when she doesn't see him, she knows that he is there, watching them, and waiting, for days like now. Only then he comes out to take everything away from her, again and again.

And there's a part of her that wishes that she hadn't listened to her rage, that she hadn't gone after him and just acted on the urge within her. Maybe then she would be free of him now. Or maybe she shouldn't have hold onto him to make his life as miserable as he had made hers for all those years. Maybe she should have let him go, so that she would be free now.

But she would anyway. Something like today would never happen again. She would be strong. Too strong for him. And then she would find a way to escape him. For good.

"It will be the last time," she tells her son, then pushes him slightly away. "Go and play now."

He nods and kisses her cheek. "Love you, mommy," he tells her, then comes to his feet.

When she hears his footsteps fading in the distance, Kayako closes her eyes. She concentrates for a moment, then she can feel the transformation within her, can feel how the pain and the blood leaves her, can feel herself merging even more with the rage, becoming one with it, of becoming stronger and more powerful, more hateful.

Oh yes. She would get away. If not from the rage, than at least from him. She would find a way and then she would make him pay an even higher prize. And she would make sure that he would suffer. For everything he had done to her and their son, and for taking Rika away now, her probably last chance of life and peace and love, which he cut into pieces that decorated now the corridor.

When Kayako opens her eyes and her mouth, the moan that tries to come out is one of pain and hate and release and a promise, all at once, filling the space around her, and she just hopes that he hears it as well, and that he will know that it means his end.

-·-·-·-