The day of the great Tokyo earthquake, Minatsuki Takami was helping her mother with the plants in her greenhouse. When the quake hit, the building was collapsing around them, and she was caught under rubble, reaching out to her mother. But, her mother's hands went right past hers and instead grasped a pot of blooming primroses. A strange smile slapped across her mother's face, and without a word, she fled with the flowers in hand, leaving Minatsuki trapped in the midst of disaster. It was only because of her brother that she survived.
It didn't matter to her what the details were. Minatsuki never stopped to wonder what the cause or reason was behind the events of that day. If she did dwell on any one thing, it was her hatred that was born on that day. It was like a cancer; it had started with her mother and spread to everyone around her, including her father. Her brother was also the object of her vilification, even though he saved her. Everyone was a liar and a shit that deserved to drown in their own blood. That was how she saw it.
She was only a child that day; she actually knew little about her mother. Frankly, she didn't care and would just as soon curse it. However, there was in fact more to the story than she had seen and what her loathing would allow her to remember. Perhaps it would have led her to greater understanding and pity. It would more than likely, though, if she had bothered to search, give her one more reason to hate.
If she was curious enough, she would remember that her name resembled her mothers. When Mitsuki Takami gave birth to her daughter, it was her father's decision that the child name be as such. Her brother, despite his young age at the time, would be able to recall this. But, he knew that his sister would never ask about such a thing. If he told her, she'd probably curse at him, want to strangle him, by no means would she ever want to believe him.
Perhaps it was not only that trait in which mother resembled daughter and daughter took after mother. Mitsuki herself was not an emotionally stable woman. It was not in the same violent, borderline psychotic manner of her daughter. But an outside observer may see it as a different strain of a shared sickness: a fragile mind.
Mitsuki isolated herself from people as much as she could. For her, any stressful situation would send her emotionally spiraling, acting insanely on blind impulse. She could not handle any of it, which is why her mother worked in her greenhouse alone, sometimes not coming home until late at night when the family was asleep. It was an escape; any tension it seemed could set her off.
And yet, up until that day, she had somehow managed to make it through life with only a few tragic mistakes. Someone was always in the background of her life, watching to make sure her mind was kept intact as much as possible. As a person handled a fragile glass statue, so the people in her life handled Mitsuki. First, it was her parents and her siblings. Then, the duty passed to the husband her parents had arranged for her to marry.
She had come to care for him and the family they created, in so far as she would let herself. But, eventually a glass statue begins to chip and crack as time goes on. The stress of life is inevitable, and occasionally she would be pushed. Her flaw would reveal itself.
Sometimes it was something small, like a late payment notice, or some small thing gone missing. In these cases she would display panic, frantic running around and pawing at papers and objects and nervous laughter. On worse occasions, it could escalate to throwing of object and yelling. But the worst symptom was how fast her vision would narrow. All other issues were blocked out, like her pain was the only thing she could sense. In her bouts, she would often ignore her husband and children.
But even then, none of them suspected that she would do what she did on that day. Nobody saw the earthquake coming. So, it is no surprise that no one foresaw that it would completely shatter that mind that was kept as gently as hers was. The shards would cut and stain the minds of her family, burrowing so deep that the wounds would never quite heal.
That day began with the rising of the sun. A warm breeze washed over the city and wrapped around the towing skyscrapers like velvet robes. Mitsuki awoke early that morning to attend to her greenhouse. That year she was working especially hard to grow her primroses, and was eager to see them blossom in splendor. She slipped out of bed and changed into some simple clothes fit for gardening, looking around to make sure she did not rouse any of her family.
She grabbed her gear and a hat and made her way to the greenhouse. With swift efficiency, she went to work, checking the flowers and watering them with the utmost care. Beads of sweat would form and trickle down her face from the heat inside, but it didn't bother her. Working hard to make her flowers grow kept her mind off of everything else. There was no stress. There were no meltdowns. There was no frightened family or worried husband. There were only primroses, violets, and dahlias that required her care.
The sun rose and a few hours past into the morning until it was just barely slipping into the afternoon. Mitsuki sat down and opened a water bottle to quench her thirst. It had gotten warm sitting in the hot greenhouse for hours while the ice that had been packed around it had melted seamlessly. The water from the ice dribbled down her hands and dripped onto to her clothes. She sighed contentedly.
Then, she heard a small rap on the door, and looked to see her daughter waiting patiently outside with curious eyes. Minatsuki had her brown hair tied back in her usual braid and was wearing a small, casual pair of shorts and a frilly top.
Mitsuki wondered what she was doing there, but was able to assure herself not to worry. Her daughter probably wanted to know what she was doing. She was a child after all, she thought. She cared for her daughter, but with her fragile mind still kept her distant somewhat. Still, she cautiously opened the door and let Minatsuki in and gave her a half of the ham sandwich she had packed away for lunch. Minatsuki pulled on her mother's pant leg, asking if she could help. Mitsuki forgot herself and her tension for a moment and looked over at a row of primroses and a few rays of small empty plastic pots sitting next to them.
She shook her head and told her it was ok if she put the empty pots away in the back room for her. Minatsuki took a bite of her sandwich and started gathering up a tray of pots. She wolfed down the rest and tried her best to carefully make her way to the back room. Her mom got back to work and started carefully checking the row of primroses and seeing which ones needed the most water.
As the day went on, her mother seemed to relax more, as if for the first time in a while she wasn't on edge. Minatsuki continued to help, much to her mother's appreciation. As midafternoon approached, the two of them started checking the very last primroses together. Mitsuki even had a pleasant smile on her face when she saw her daughter expressing such an interest in the small, delicate flowers.
She turned her back to turn on the garden hose when the first tremor hit. One of the larger pots fell down and broke. Minastuki murmured worriedly and tried to pick up the pieces. Her mother turned off the hose and felt her heart starting to race. Her hands began to feel shaky. Before she could react to it, the second tremor hit with greater force.
Within barely five minutes the earthquake was in full swing. The ground was shaking and the walls and ceiling of the green house were beginning to crack. Mitsuki could feel her mind slipping and the anxiety and paranoia setting in. For a split second she thought to grab her daughter and run. And then, one of the beams came crashing down over the plants, burying them and Minatsuki along with them. Her mother had no time to act.
She found herself frantically running around, breathing heavily and her mind growing foggy. It was like she was forgetting what was going on. It had never gotten this bad before. Within seconds, she forgot what she was doing. She saw the beam and there was a single, large pot of Primroses. It was the pot nearest the entrance, and the one she had spent the most effort in raising.
Somehow they survived. Something she had worked so hard on was still standing, despite everything collapsing around her. A smile slapped across her face and she reached out to grab them. At least one thing wasn't shattering to pieces or getting squished. But, everything else was blocked out of her mind, including the little hands desperately grabbing at her arms and the small voice crying out into the din.
Minatsuki clamored for her mother as she squirmed underneath the rubble. She smiled for a moment as her mother's hands reached in her direction. But the smile faded as those hands wrapped around the pot of primroses just in front of her. Mitsuki held onto the pot tightly, with her manic smile wide across her face. Minatsuki started to whimper, but it was as though she wasn't heard at all. She couldn't see her. The little girl cried out but it changed nothing. With a sudden burst of laughter, her mother ran out the door.
Her mother had just left her to be crushed. She screamed out, but her scream was out of betrayal, of anger, and the planting of a seed of resentment.
Mitsuki managed to make it a little ways from the green house, when she suddenly felt something tugging at her in the back of her mind. At first she ignored it, but then it seemed the episode of mania was beginning to wear off. As if the fog had just cleared, she realized her daughter was missing. She looked at the pot of primroses and felt a sudden repulsion and disgust. In one of her most terrible fits, she narrowed to her focus to one thing, as she often did. But this time, it may have cost somebody's life.
There was a terrible feeling deep inside her. She cast aside the pot and it smashed upon the ground. Mitsuki had to go back, she thought. Even if her daughter was long buried under the rubble, she couldn't set aside what she had done. She turned around and started dashing back, when she saw her son come up from behind her and run past her. She wanted to call out to him. It was too dangerous for him to go in, that it was her job to go and get Minatsuki.
But, she never got the chance. For at that moment, a large mound of debris plummeted into her, squishing her under its massive size. Her life was extinguished in an instant. She never had the chance to see that her daughter lived. There was no chance to apologize or explain or to understand. There was only the regret for what had come before.
Minatsuki was in the greenhouse alone, still stuck watching everything shatter in all directions. She had stopped crying when she heard her brother call out in the chaos and a small hand grabbed her arm. She was pulled out from underneath and met with the worried face of her brother. But, her expression had grown cold, unmoving. Her brother took it for being stunned and assisted her out of the greenhouse.
The two of them managed to escape and with the exception of their mother, the whole family survived the ordeal of the earthquake. Yoh and Minatsuki managed to make it back to their father, who seemed relieved that they were ok. He asked them where their mother was. Yoh started to tear up and told him about seeing his mother killed by the flying mass of debris.
Everything was silent for a moment. The father seemed shaken, and Yoh seemed on the verge of crying his eyes out. But, Minatsuki's expression seemed to take on a colder, icy tone. But, then a manic smile similar to her mother's appeared on her face. The father did not notice, but Yoh saw through his tears. He said nothing at the time. But, he knew something was changing in his sister.
He would ask later. His sister related the story to him as she saw it, and then told him her mother deserved what she got, perhaps something even worse. Yoh didn't understand at first. But, he didn't question her further. He himself didn't know what his mother was about to say to him before she died. He had no idea what was going through her mind. Her fragile mind had shattered as the earthquake shattered the greenhouse. The wounds they left had torn into his sister, and after she told him what had happened, it affected him, too. But, even with the scars that would color his world after, a small part of sanity would remain with him. Perhaps that was how he differed from his sister, and part of what drove him in the years to come.
It was just him, his sister, and his father.
After all of this had taken place, the cracks in Minatsuki's mind began to form, stretching across her consciousness. Her sense of betrayal blossomed into hated not only for her mother, but all of those around her. Her mother couldn't be trusted, nobody could be trusted. They all deserved to suffer in her mind. If only she could have been there to see her mother pay. It would give her satisfaction beyond anything else. But, she had only her father and her brother and the people that remained.
So, she began to deceive and manipulate. Her brother was led to believe that their father had begun abusing her, but only Minatsuki knew the truth of this. She enjoyed seeing the suffering that played out as a result, she discovered. And so, the deceit continued. Yoh retaliated against his father, and one day he walked into what he perceived to be his sister stripped and about to be assaulted. He took a knife and tried to strike his father down.
As he stabbed him, strings of blood sprang forth from his body, and Yoh believed it was his doing. But, it was Minatsuki, who had discovered a great and terrible power that had emerged within her blood after the earthquake. She did not tell him of this, but still it was she who was arrested and sentenced to death row at Japan's only private prison, Deadman Wonderland.
He would later get himself arrested, just to try and get in so he could clear her name. But, this would not be the case, for the truth was that it was by her hand that their father died. From the hands flowed blood that ran hot with hatred and disdain for others, and a psychotic lust to see others suffer. Would it have made a difference if she had known the whole story? If her mother had lived long enough to rescue her, would her mind be whole? Would she be without this loathing that drives her now? Perhaps not. But what was before was largely forgotten, in ruins. All that was left was animosity, darkness and a poisonous hate that infested every corner of her being.
And it all began with her mother, who left her behind, but imparted her sickness of a fragile mind.
Update: Edited for a couple of minor typos.
This piece was written for the Anime Detour 2012 fanfiction contest.
