STRENGTH - CHAPTER 1
Rinko stared at the hospital floor - a speckled white surface covered in scuff marks, reflecting the bright, florescent lights overhead. She turned and squinted at the wall clock. The second hand made only one revolution since the last time she checked. She shifted in her chair. Over an hour of sitting on an uncomfortable, plastic surface hurt her lower back. She thought a hospital would have slightly more ergonomic chairs. She slumped, slowly sinking until her chin met her chest, then tilted her head toward the ceiling and sighed.
A nurse behind the waiting room glass shook her head at the childish display of boredom. Rinko wanted everyone in the room to see how dismayed she was at waiting. But this nurse would not budge - no matter how loud and how often Rinko sighed and fidgeted.
"We have plenty of reading material if you're bored," the nurse's monotone voice matched her lethargic movements as she slowly pointed a sharpened pencil in the general vicinity of a stack of magazines.
Rinko quickly sat up at the sound of the nurse's voice.
"Please, can I see him?" Rinko begged, clasping her hands together.
"As I've said before: no fans allowed. Family only."
"But I'm not a fan. I'm a friend."
"If I had a dollar for every young girl that came into the hospital hoping to see her wrestler-crush, I'd be able to retire a decade early. What do you expect him to do, wake up to your pretty face and instantly fall in love? Sweetheart, he's a wrestler. He has more girlfriends than he does opponents."
Rinko bit her lip and crossed her arms - Jade was not like that.
The nurse produced a medium-sized purse from underneath her desk. She unclasped the magnetic button that held it shut, and rummaged for something. Loose change, keys, and small items bounced and clicked off each other until she pulled out a plastic make up bag. She procured a nail file from the smaller bag, and held it up to examine the sand-paper like surface. The first side was marred with scratch marks and too smooth to be of use. She flipped it over to expose an un-used, grainy texture.
As the nurse filed her nails, Rinko slid back in her chair, defeated.
Brocken Jr felt his stomach inch closer to his chest as the elevator descended. Hospitals were the antithesis to wrestling. This particular hospital was so quiet, that its internal noises permeated every space: the wheeling of carts, the beeps of machinery, the hiss of air through the vents. Everything smelled like the color white - like alcohol and cleanliness, powdered gloves and freshly laundered sheets.
Jade's room was a few doors down from other patients so as not to cause a disturbance. The German wrestler faded in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. His head, neck, and back were severely damaged, and the doctors were concerned that perhaps his motor skills and walking might be affected long-term.
Brocken was glad to hear the doors of the elevator hiss open. Sedatives kept Jade in a blissful slumber, and in the silence, the older man could hear his own stomach grumble. Now that he had a moment to himself, he felt the pangs of hunger. He honestly could not recall what he had eaten that day, and had the suspicion that it was, in fact, nothing.
Rinko surrendered, and picked up a magazine. She brought it back to her chair and flipped through several advertisements until she reached a folded-over page that contained a perfume sample. She gently pulled the page apart and sniffed... Too strong! She fought the urge to sneeze as she scanned the newest purses, makeup, and clothes.
A loud beep echoed through the empty room, and Rinko turned her head to see who was coming out of the elevator. She would wait here for days if it meant watching Jade walk through those automatic doors. Brocken's polished boots and tattered coat filled her vision. While he was not Jade, he was the next best thing. Rinko sat up quickly and nearly knocked her chair over with excitement.
"Brocken! I'm so glad to see you!" She ran to the German coach and almost embraced him - but she thought better of it, and kept her hands to herself.
Brocken looked down at the high school student. Her pig tails bobbed a few times before settling into place. His eyes wandered over her shoulder, to a veritable base of operations - her belongings surrounded a plastic chair: backpack, books, headphones, empty snack wrappers... Her intentions were clear - she planned on staying for quite some time. He knew when to spot a young, love-struck fan.
"So..." Rinko shuffled her feet a few times, and pulled at the sleeve of her shirt, "How is Jade doing?"
Brocken sighed. There really was no point in hiding information, "It does not look good," he said with a stern face, "there is much damage. The doctor's feel that his head and neck injuries might affect his walking and fine motor skills."
Rinko, surprised by his response, took a step back. That was not the answer she expected. Jade was a super-human! He watched as she lowered her head, eyes in line with a smudge of dirty on the floor. She narrowed her gaze to that one spot, her focus intense as she willed herself not to cry. She wiped at the corner of her eye with an index finger, smudging a bit of makeup. One, lonely tear threatened to fall, but she managed to keep herself composed. The last thing she needed was the famous Brocken Jr thinking of her as a weak little girl.
Brocken stepped around her, but Rinko's arm shot out and hooked around the crook of his elbow.
"Where are you going?" she questioned, with a bit of pleading in her voice.
"I'm going to get some lunch."
At the mention of food, Rinko's stomach growled loudly. She covered her mid-section with her arms in a feeble attempt to somehow shush her internal organs. She blushed a bit from the embarrassment.
"Would you..." Rinko started to say something, but she fumbled with her words, "Would you mind if I..."
Brocken knew what she wanted to say, but he enjoyed the immense nervousness caused by his piercing stare. After a few moments, his annoyance waned, and his inner-choujin scolded him for taking pleasure in her discomfort. His features softened - by only a little bit - and he sighed in exasperation, "You can come and have lunch with me."
Rinko instantly brightened, hands no longer toying with themselves in nervousness. Brocken regretted his decision, but there was no going back now. He was a man of his word, even if begrudgingly so.
Brocken opened the door to a small ramen shop and guided Rinko to a spot in the back, away from the other patrons. Hushed whispers followed her footsteps, and she felt a speck of pride. Others appeared to be jealous of her company. A man placing large, steaming bowls in front of customers looked up to see what all of the noise was about. He nearly spilled hot soup all over the floor and the nice pant-suit of a female professional at the sight of Brocken, but steadied himself just in time.
He rushed to their table and bowed deeply, "Mr. Brocken, sir! Can I get you the usual today?"
"Yes."
"And for you, Miss?"
"She will have the same."
Rinko had grabbed a laminated menu from a wire holder. She looked at Brocken with squinted eyes, and he could see that she had placed a finger on the menu item she desired.
"You will eat what I pay for."
She put the menu back.
Two large bowls of ramen materialized in no time at all. Rinko grabbed a pair of chop sticks from a container. They were packaged like straws, and she tore at the paper to pull them out. She tugged each stick gently, and they snapped apart. She was about to hand a pair of utensils to Brocken, but found that a shiny piece of silverware sat on top of his napkin. Brocken ate his ramen... With a fork.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't tell me you've never used chop sticks before."
He picked up his fork and twirled it beneath the broth to wrap the curly noodles around the four prongs.
"Seriously? You've been in Japan for how long, and you still don't know how to use chop sticks?"
She grabbed the fork after he took his bite, and shoved a pair of chop sticks into his hands - "Do it right."
It was strange to see the menacing Brocken taken down by two small sticks. He held the sticks in either hand, not quite sure how to go about eating. The concept of using two blunt objects to eat... Soup? Rinko took his hands and moved his fingers so they rested on the wooden sticks properly.
"See. Now just move you fingers like so, and it makes them go up and down. Now you can eat your food."
Brocken tried to scoop up some noodles, but they fell back into the broth. After a few attempts, he finally managed to clump some noodles together, and lifted them from the bowl. The problem, this time, was getting them to his mouth. Wrapped around a fork, the noodles could be eaten with little mess and little... Slurping. With chop sticks, they hung down and he would have to lift them over his head to drop them into his mouth, or he would have to slurp them up like a child.
He choose the latter. As he sucked up the last bit of noodle, it flicked and splattered broth across his face. He dabbed his nose with a napkin and Rinko thought he blushed, if only just a little bit.
"I do not like this," he said, and placed the chop sticks down. He held out his hand, and Rinko gave him back his fork with a long, over-dramatic sigh.
"Fiiiiine."
They ate in silence, Rinko making the occasional slurping sound as she sucked up her lunch like a vacuum. A few moments passed before Brocken decided to ask her a question:
"Why are you fawning over my student?"
Rinko choked a little before letting her noodles fall back into the bowl.
"Ummm..."
She knew why she liked him so much. It's just that... Sometimes feelings are ineffable, that's why they're called feelings. She hated having to come up with the words, and feared her hesitation to answer his question made her unsure in his eyes. She gripped her chopsticks harder and looked down at her cloudy soup, watching as little shiny flecks of fat moved over the surface.
"I guess I like him because he's not Nisei. I know it sounds weird, but just hear me out..."
She was quiet for a moment, searching for the right words, "He trains like he wants to get better. Like he wants to be the best. Like he believes he's already the best and he's scared that someone's going to catch up. But he's not arrogant about it. He's... A nice guy.
He's a good choujin. Like, not just good at fighting, but he really believes in what it means to be a choujin. I don't think he'd ever use his status to his advantage.
Plus, you know... He's cute."
She added the last bit without really thinking, and stirred her soup around before lifting more noodles to her mouth. She couldn't speak if she was chewing. That would be rude.
Brocken let out what she assumed was an approving grunt before going back to his meal, but he may have simply scoffed at her... She wasn't quite sure.
Rinko slung her backpack over one shoulder as they left the ramen shop. She followed brocken's heavier footsteps, and noted how he turned his neck to glare at her from the corner of his eye.
"I'm going back to the hospital, Brocken, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. I will stay in that waiting room for as long as it takes."
"I'm sure you will." Brocken faced forward, and smiled a little at her perseverance.
When the sliding glass doors of the waiting room beckoned them in, she abruptly turned from Brocken and headed toward the uncomfortable chairs. He grabbed the handle of her backpack and yanked forcefully. Rinko yelped in surprised, but calmed down when she realized that he was pulling her toward the elevators.
Jade had a brace around his neck and two large, black eyes. They were puffy, still swollen, and she wondered if seeing him in this state really was the best idea.
She took a seat on a padded stool by his bed. She swiveled around to mouth "thank you," to Brocken, but realized that he had not entered the room with her.
She slowly turned back to Jade, and brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes. She trailed a tentative arm down the length of his bed until she hovered over the bump under his blanket that was his hand. She hesitated before placing her hand on top of his. The movement must have stirred him, because she could feel his fingers twitch and he looked almost panicked when he realized that he could not move his head.
She stood and leaned over him, her face inches away from his bruised eyes. They fluttered open - only half-way - and the whites of his eyes were red and blotchy. She wondered if he could even see her face.
"Rinko..." It was barely a whisper.
He struggled to open his eyes a little wider, and loosened his fingers from her grip.
"Have you been crying, fräulein?"
"What? No... I haven't been crying."
But she was about to. She could feel the sting in her throat, and her vision blurred just slightly.
"Then why did your eye-makeup smudge?"
She heard the rustle of fabric. He lifted his hand from the blanket, palm molding to the contours of her face, thumb stretching out to gently wipe away a bit of black from the corner of her eye.
Huh. So she went that whole afternoon with smudged eye-liner, and Brocken didn't say a thing.