DISCLAIMER: Yuu Watase = goddess. I = jealous. You = reader. Nuriko = cool. Disclaimer = over.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a reincarnation type story...but...erm...a kinda weird one. Read at your own risk. :)
---
"I'm Him?"
by Ryuen
~ ~ ~
Part I: Just A Normal Girl
---
I smile contentedly, letting my chin rest on the crook of my arm, my breath making hollow donuts on the smooth glass of the coffee table. It's been a horrible day...dragged out of bed at seven...forced to dust and vacuum room after room while Mom went on errands. Then, there were dishes to wash, dishes to dry, plants to water, cats to feed, windows to clean, floors to scrub, mirrors to polish, toys to pick up...ack. What a day. Sometimes I truly despise being a girl...really. Mom's so old-fashioned...I get trapped in a stereotype no matter what I do.
If there are dishes, I do them. If there's cleaning to be done...I do it. If there's a lawn to be mowed or crates to be moved or a bottle to be opened...she calls for him--brother dearest to the rescue... Gah. Pisses me off. But, hey...I'll be out of here soon, right? College... It'll be weird, I think, being on my own...but, it'll be nice to live like a human being for a change, to maybe act like I want to act instead of how 'girls are supposed to act.'
Ah, but I'm not really this bitter...just...er...annoyed.
Sighing deeply, I turn my head to the side, let my cheek press against the bare skin of my arm, and let a happy, glazed smile drift over my lips. Ah, anime...ahhhhh, Fushigi Yuugi. I snicker, watching with a bit of glee as Nuriko knocks Tasuki into a wall...God, I love this stuff. Eat it up like Miaka at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Romance, intrigue, adventure, sacrifice...but most of all, friendship. Gah, I wish I had friends like these...bonds like these can't ever be broken, can they? I want that...I want that so badly.
To be needed...to need others...it must be wonderful.
I take a moment to glance at the dull days of my life, feel a frown thickening the skin between my eyebrows. Why can't real life be like this? God...what I wouldn't give to wake up and find myself in some chamber of Hotohori's palace in Konan, Nuriko right down the hall, Miaka racing around screaming, "Tamahome!" Tasuki shrieking out curse words... I sigh again, and sink down onto the rough green carpeting, pressing a hand over my eyes. Agh, I promised myself I wouldn't do this again...but, nonetheless, the feelings are there, and so, unfortuately, are the memories.
It was a few months ago...a fluke, really...an accident. Someone from school, barely knew them...found out I liked anime, handed me a tape...and, good Lord, I fell in love. Every character...every episode...every moment. It resonated with me, left me awed and unable to move from my chair even to eat or sleep. It was worse than an addiction, worse than an obsession. It was like my own life ceased to exist, faded into the bowels of nothingness...because THIS was how life was supposed to be. THIS was how it was all supposed to be.
I let out a frustrated growl, hurl a pillow at the TV. What is it about this anime? Why can't I watch it without this strange feeling in my heart, this odd familiarity rebounding in my skull... I scowl. It's damn strange...perfect psychiatrist fodder. Better not let Mom get wind of it. I grimace. Mom...
As if on cue, I hear the familiar squeak of my mother's door upstairs, the thud of her feet hitting the stairs. "Riiiiiiiiley," she calls in a low, warning voice. "You're not watching those weird foreign cartoons again, are you...?"
I sigh, reaching for the remote to click off the VCR. "Not anymore, Mom."
She draws a long breath, lets it out slowly. "You know it's not a good idea to get too obsessed with anything, Riley--remember what happened with Star Wars when you were little? Thought were you a Jedi...let's not see that happen with this, all right? Besides," she adds, folding thin arms over her chest and stepping into view, "you're getting up early tomorrow to help me clean the garage, so you'd better get to bed. Ted'll do the heavy stuff, of course, but we'll sweep and clean...lots of work to do since your father left..."
I let out a low growl, pressing a pillow against my face to hide the anger...but Mom, of course, picks up on it anyway. "No arguments," she chides, and I can practically see her holding up that index finger sternly... "It needs to be cleaned, and everyone's going to help, not just you. So, not a word of whining."
I'm so tired...I can't even find the will to stop myself from blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. "That's not it," I mutter. "I'm stronger than Ted is, you know that...but you still let him do all the hard stuff and make me do all the cleaning." I scowl. "Just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm weak."
Silence. I risk a glance over the pillow, peer out at my mother. There's a perplexed look on her face, a worried frown twisting her lips downwards. "There's a difference between men's work and woman's work," she says quietly after a few moments, still frowning. "I just want you to stick to what you're meant for...you could hurt yourself doing anything else. It's just because I worry about you, Riley..." She pauses, seems to spend a moment debating, then takes a long step forward, peers down at me with suspicious eyes. "Riley...you know I don't like to pry into your private life, but..." She sighs. "Ted told me you've been pretending to be a boy online. Is that true?"
I freeze, shocked and angry, and rise up to my knees, stare at her in blank horror. "I...I don't...I...well..." I sigh. "So what if I do? It's not hurting anybody..."
Her eyes narrow, and I know I'm done for. "It's dishonest, and it...frankly, it makes me wonder about you, Riley...I mean, you hate wearing makeup, you never wear dresses, and now you're pretending to be a boy online...I mean, are you...are you..."
I groan, throw myself melodramatically onto the floor. "Mom, don't even finish that sentence."
"Well, I have to wonder! I mean, normal girls don't go online and pretend to be MEN...normal girls put on makeup and go out on dates and wear dresses and don't complain when their mother's don't want them to do MAN'S work..."
I...I can't take it. Enraged, I leap up to my feet, brush past my mother, and storm up to my room. The door slams shut behind me...and finally...it's quiet...peaceful...I can breathe again. I fall onto my bed, draw my knees to my chest. She doesn't understand...never will. There's...there's something inside of me that tells me that I'm more than this, that there's something strong and powerful hiding beneath this slim frame, these girlish features, these thin arms and legs. There's something there...something better. I turn over on the bed, press my pillow against my eyes until the light fades, until it's dark... Despite my best efforts, I find my thoughts drifting again to my favorite anime, making the comparison I know I shouldn't but just can't help...
It's like Nuriko. So unassuming...so thin and small...everyone underestimates him...but damn it if he isn't the strongest of all of them.
The strongest of all of them...yeah. That's what I wanna be.
Yeah.
---
Part 2: What Lies Within
~ ~ ~
I...can't breathe.
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping and in pain. It feels like something's pressing down on my chest, holding me in place, shoving the breath from within me until it becomes nearly impossible to draw even the sparest bits of air into my lungs...God, I'm dying...I can't...I can't breathe... I thrash beneath the blankets, struggle to push myself from the edge of the bed...I have to get help...I have to...I have to get help...or I'm going to die, aren't I? I'll pass out here, look just like I'm sleeping...they'll never know...it'll be too late before they realize anything's wrong, before they realize I'm not breathing...
God, why NOW??
I'm gonna die...I'm...I'm gonna die...I can't breathe, I can't move...I'm too weak...Mom was right...just a weak little girl... Can't get up...can't...can't breathe, can't get up, gonna die. Gonna...gonna lose...
And, suddenly, something snaps.
No. NO. I...I can't lose. Not like this.
Something flares within me, a bright, crimson flame...a...a strength. Yes...yes. It's there, now, warm and solid, blazing through my veins like molten lava, filling me with power...grinning tightly to myself, I let the strength wash over me, fill me until I know that I can do this...that I can move... I push my arms beneath me, shove myself onto my feet, and walk. It's agony...but the strength is there, fueling me onwards, giving me the power...it's hard...it's so hard...I can't breathe...things are starting to waver...but I'm doing it...I'm moving...I'm walking...gods, I'm walking...I can do it...I can get there...I can get help...I CAN SAVE MYSELF! Even if I don't understand why...even if I don't understand how...I can do it.
Because I am...I am...I am something more than this.
I reach the door, wrap my fingers around the cool brass of the knob, and turn. It opens, and I step victoriously into the hallway. Yes. I've...I've done it. I'll make it.
I'll...I'll get help.
Yes. Because I can't lose. Not now, not like this...not after everything I've been through, everything I've fought for...not now...not ever.
And, then, just as the thought drifts through my mind, the air floods abruptly back into my lungs, and I fall to my knees on the rough carpeting, shocked but unfathomably thankful. I can...I can breathe again!...the air rushes up and down my throat, cool and sweet and wondrous...I'm breathing...I'm alive...gods, what happened?
I pause, frowning at my own odd phrasing. //Gods?\\
I shake my head, rise to my feet, and stumble into the bathroom. It doesn't matter...reflex...too much Fushigi Yuugi fanfiction. The point is, whatever it was that was happening is OVER...I'm...I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm breathing. Reassured and still feeling a bit weak in the knees, I lean heavily against the sink, reach up a finger to flick on the lightswitch...and freeze as the room is flooded with a soft white glow, as my own image stares blankly back at me in the mirror.
My lips part, dry and cracked, and a high squeaking sound crackles in my throat. "G...Gods," I whisper, suddenly feeling very ill.
I bring a hand to my nightshirt, tear the fabric downwards, knowing...KNOWING...and, good Lord...it's THERE. Gods...gods...it's there. What the hell is going on? How...how could this...what is...how...it's impossible. Yes. Impossible...must be dreaming...that's it. Dreaming.
Because, God above, I am NOT standing here in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror...staring at the willow glowing a faint red on my chest. I am NOT...because it's impossible. It's...impossible.
I'm dreaming. Must be. Just a dream.
A dream.
I stumble back to my bed, hide beneath my covers, still shaking and more frightened than I can remember being in my entire life. Trembling, I glance downward, press a hand against the flesh of my upper left chest...and feel a shudder work its way through my body. It's...it's still there. I can feel it fading, the power receding...but it's still there, burning a fiery crimson on my flesh.
What. The. HELL.
I...I don't understand. No...NO. Just a dream. Close your eyes, forget about it. It'll be better in the morning, because it's JUST A DREAM. Just a dream.
I close my eyes...but I can still feel it there...I can feel it.
Because I am...him...somehow...aren't I?
I'm...him.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a reincarnation type story...but...erm...a kinda weird one. Read at your own risk. :)
---
"I'm Him?"
by Ryuen
~ ~ ~
Part I: Just A Normal Girl
---
I smile contentedly, letting my chin rest on the crook of my arm, my breath making hollow donuts on the smooth glass of the coffee table. It's been a horrible day...dragged out of bed at seven...forced to dust and vacuum room after room while Mom went on errands. Then, there were dishes to wash, dishes to dry, plants to water, cats to feed, windows to clean, floors to scrub, mirrors to polish, toys to pick up...ack. What a day. Sometimes I truly despise being a girl...really. Mom's so old-fashioned...I get trapped in a stereotype no matter what I do.
If there are dishes, I do them. If there's cleaning to be done...I do it. If there's a lawn to be mowed or crates to be moved or a bottle to be opened...she calls for him--brother dearest to the rescue... Gah. Pisses me off. But, hey...I'll be out of here soon, right? College... It'll be weird, I think, being on my own...but, it'll be nice to live like a human being for a change, to maybe act like I want to act instead of how 'girls are supposed to act.'
Ah, but I'm not really this bitter...just...er...annoyed.
Sighing deeply, I turn my head to the side, let my cheek press against the bare skin of my arm, and let a happy, glazed smile drift over my lips. Ah, anime...ahhhhh, Fushigi Yuugi. I snicker, watching with a bit of glee as Nuriko knocks Tasuki into a wall...God, I love this stuff. Eat it up like Miaka at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Romance, intrigue, adventure, sacrifice...but most of all, friendship. Gah, I wish I had friends like these...bonds like these can't ever be broken, can they? I want that...I want that so badly.
To be needed...to need others...it must be wonderful.
I take a moment to glance at the dull days of my life, feel a frown thickening the skin between my eyebrows. Why can't real life be like this? God...what I wouldn't give to wake up and find myself in some chamber of Hotohori's palace in Konan, Nuriko right down the hall, Miaka racing around screaming, "Tamahome!" Tasuki shrieking out curse words... I sigh again, and sink down onto the rough green carpeting, pressing a hand over my eyes. Agh, I promised myself I wouldn't do this again...but, nonetheless, the feelings are there, and so, unfortuately, are the memories.
It was a few months ago...a fluke, really...an accident. Someone from school, barely knew them...found out I liked anime, handed me a tape...and, good Lord, I fell in love. Every character...every episode...every moment. It resonated with me, left me awed and unable to move from my chair even to eat or sleep. It was worse than an addiction, worse than an obsession. It was like my own life ceased to exist, faded into the bowels of nothingness...because THIS was how life was supposed to be. THIS was how it was all supposed to be.
I let out a frustrated growl, hurl a pillow at the TV. What is it about this anime? Why can't I watch it without this strange feeling in my heart, this odd familiarity rebounding in my skull... I scowl. It's damn strange...perfect psychiatrist fodder. Better not let Mom get wind of it. I grimace. Mom...
As if on cue, I hear the familiar squeak of my mother's door upstairs, the thud of her feet hitting the stairs. "Riiiiiiiiley," she calls in a low, warning voice. "You're not watching those weird foreign cartoons again, are you...?"
I sigh, reaching for the remote to click off the VCR. "Not anymore, Mom."
She draws a long breath, lets it out slowly. "You know it's not a good idea to get too obsessed with anything, Riley--remember what happened with Star Wars when you were little? Thought were you a Jedi...let's not see that happen with this, all right? Besides," she adds, folding thin arms over her chest and stepping into view, "you're getting up early tomorrow to help me clean the garage, so you'd better get to bed. Ted'll do the heavy stuff, of course, but we'll sweep and clean...lots of work to do since your father left..."
I let out a low growl, pressing a pillow against my face to hide the anger...but Mom, of course, picks up on it anyway. "No arguments," she chides, and I can practically see her holding up that index finger sternly... "It needs to be cleaned, and everyone's going to help, not just you. So, not a word of whining."
I'm so tired...I can't even find the will to stop myself from blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. "That's not it," I mutter. "I'm stronger than Ted is, you know that...but you still let him do all the hard stuff and make me do all the cleaning." I scowl. "Just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm weak."
Silence. I risk a glance over the pillow, peer out at my mother. There's a perplexed look on her face, a worried frown twisting her lips downwards. "There's a difference between men's work and woman's work," she says quietly after a few moments, still frowning. "I just want you to stick to what you're meant for...you could hurt yourself doing anything else. It's just because I worry about you, Riley..." She pauses, seems to spend a moment debating, then takes a long step forward, peers down at me with suspicious eyes. "Riley...you know I don't like to pry into your private life, but..." She sighs. "Ted told me you've been pretending to be a boy online. Is that true?"
I freeze, shocked and angry, and rise up to my knees, stare at her in blank horror. "I...I don't...I...well..." I sigh. "So what if I do? It's not hurting anybody..."
Her eyes narrow, and I know I'm done for. "It's dishonest, and it...frankly, it makes me wonder about you, Riley...I mean, you hate wearing makeup, you never wear dresses, and now you're pretending to be a boy online...I mean, are you...are you..."
I groan, throw myself melodramatically onto the floor. "Mom, don't even finish that sentence."
"Well, I have to wonder! I mean, normal girls don't go online and pretend to be MEN...normal girls put on makeup and go out on dates and wear dresses and don't complain when their mother's don't want them to do MAN'S work..."
I...I can't take it. Enraged, I leap up to my feet, brush past my mother, and storm up to my room. The door slams shut behind me...and finally...it's quiet...peaceful...I can breathe again. I fall onto my bed, draw my knees to my chest. She doesn't understand...never will. There's...there's something inside of me that tells me that I'm more than this, that there's something strong and powerful hiding beneath this slim frame, these girlish features, these thin arms and legs. There's something there...something better. I turn over on the bed, press my pillow against my eyes until the light fades, until it's dark... Despite my best efforts, I find my thoughts drifting again to my favorite anime, making the comparison I know I shouldn't but just can't help...
It's like Nuriko. So unassuming...so thin and small...everyone underestimates him...but damn it if he isn't the strongest of all of them.
The strongest of all of them...yeah. That's what I wanna be.
Yeah.
---
Part 2: What Lies Within
~ ~ ~
I...can't breathe.
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping and in pain. It feels like something's pressing down on my chest, holding me in place, shoving the breath from within me until it becomes nearly impossible to draw even the sparest bits of air into my lungs...God, I'm dying...I can't...I can't breathe... I thrash beneath the blankets, struggle to push myself from the edge of the bed...I have to get help...I have to...I have to get help...or I'm going to die, aren't I? I'll pass out here, look just like I'm sleeping...they'll never know...it'll be too late before they realize anything's wrong, before they realize I'm not breathing...
God, why NOW??
I'm gonna die...I'm...I'm gonna die...I can't breathe, I can't move...I'm too weak...Mom was right...just a weak little girl... Can't get up...can't...can't breathe, can't get up, gonna die. Gonna...gonna lose...
And, suddenly, something snaps.
No. NO. I...I can't lose. Not like this.
Something flares within me, a bright, crimson flame...a...a strength. Yes...yes. It's there, now, warm and solid, blazing through my veins like molten lava, filling me with power...grinning tightly to myself, I let the strength wash over me, fill me until I know that I can do this...that I can move... I push my arms beneath me, shove myself onto my feet, and walk. It's agony...but the strength is there, fueling me onwards, giving me the power...it's hard...it's so hard...I can't breathe...things are starting to waver...but I'm doing it...I'm moving...I'm walking...gods, I'm walking...I can do it...I can get there...I can get help...I CAN SAVE MYSELF! Even if I don't understand why...even if I don't understand how...I can do it.
Because I am...I am...I am something more than this.
I reach the door, wrap my fingers around the cool brass of the knob, and turn. It opens, and I step victoriously into the hallway. Yes. I've...I've done it. I'll make it.
I'll...I'll get help.
Yes. Because I can't lose. Not now, not like this...not after everything I've been through, everything I've fought for...not now...not ever.
And, then, just as the thought drifts through my mind, the air floods abruptly back into my lungs, and I fall to my knees on the rough carpeting, shocked but unfathomably thankful. I can...I can breathe again!...the air rushes up and down my throat, cool and sweet and wondrous...I'm breathing...I'm alive...gods, what happened?
I pause, frowning at my own odd phrasing. //Gods?\\
I shake my head, rise to my feet, and stumble into the bathroom. It doesn't matter...reflex...too much Fushigi Yuugi fanfiction. The point is, whatever it was that was happening is OVER...I'm...I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm breathing. Reassured and still feeling a bit weak in the knees, I lean heavily against the sink, reach up a finger to flick on the lightswitch...and freeze as the room is flooded with a soft white glow, as my own image stares blankly back at me in the mirror.
My lips part, dry and cracked, and a high squeaking sound crackles in my throat. "G...Gods," I whisper, suddenly feeling very ill.
I bring a hand to my nightshirt, tear the fabric downwards, knowing...KNOWING...and, good Lord...it's THERE. Gods...gods...it's there. What the hell is going on? How...how could this...what is...how...it's impossible. Yes. Impossible...must be dreaming...that's it. Dreaming.
Because, God above, I am NOT standing here in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror...staring at the willow glowing a faint red on my chest. I am NOT...because it's impossible. It's...impossible.
I'm dreaming. Must be. Just a dream.
A dream.
I stumble back to my bed, hide beneath my covers, still shaking and more frightened than I can remember being in my entire life. Trembling, I glance downward, press a hand against the flesh of my upper left chest...and feel a shudder work its way through my body. It's...it's still there. I can feel it fading, the power receding...but it's still there, burning a fiery crimson on my flesh.
What. The. HELL.
I...I don't understand. No...NO. Just a dream. Close your eyes, forget about it. It'll be better in the morning, because it's JUST A DREAM. Just a dream.
I close my eyes...but I can still feel it there...I can feel it.
Because I am...him...somehow...aren't I?
I'm...him.