Evasive Her

By YourMouthHangingOpen

Chapter 3: Flames

The good weather the other day was gone; reddish-yellow leaves fluttering in the wind, green grass littered with flowers and dew drops were gone. As she stared out the open window and felt the light rain upon her face, she smiled.

Mikan preferred it this way.


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She was interrupted from her thoughts when the dingy bus lurched to the side and a string of obscenities left the mouths of the passengers. The aging driver glanced and apologized, blaming a huge rock at the side of road, while the conductor snorted about the demand of quality service and its appropriate price.

Mikan was adjusting on her seat when an elderly woman leaned forward with great difficulty that wasn't lost to her.

"What might be the reason that a lass like you be doing here of all the places she could be?" The woman spoke in a broken English manner that Mikan had to think for a moment.

"Ummm... I'm just visiting someone." She faltered and or the first time, noticed the faded blue dress and the green wool sweater the other was wearing. She even had a bright yellow scarf that strangely reminded her of something... of cats and cats and—

"Hmmm... Eloping, perhaps?" The woman mused and Mikan almost fell from her seat when the bus lurched to the side once more.

"No, no, no, no, no... I'm not eloping with anyone!" She exclaimed that most heads turned to her. The woman calmly folded her frail hands on her lap.

"I live here, er... I lived here. I'm just going to visit my aunt." She muttered awkwardly, quite abashed at the attention she was getting.

"If you have lived in Soroichi I should know you... Maybe you're one of the new ones when I was barely awake." She squirmed in her seat to turn away from Mikan, when it clicked.

"Oh my gods... Mrs. Ketsuya! You're awake, you can speak... Goodness, you still wear that ridiculously yellow scarf!" She exclaimed and had an urge to step forward to embrace the elder.

"Yes. I'm awake now. Although I know many of them aren't too happy about it, those... Well, how do you know me?" She trailed off.

"Mrs. Ketsuya, I'm Mikan! I used to bring you milk everyday, I wipe the windows of your cottage..." Mikan grinned and was surprised when the old woman grasped her hands.

"Mikan! You've grown, you're not the little kid anymore who always had filthy clothes... But all the same, you're still beautiful, if not more." Mrs. Ketsuya smiled. Gasps were heard all around as people scrambled to take a look at her.

"You're the Mikan who plucked the weeds from my garden!"

"Mikan! Remember me? You used to fix our sink!"

"Goodness Mikan, you suck at babysitting. Hiro's all grown up now."

Mikan laughed and nodded as the memories started to flood back. She glanced at Mrs. Ketsuya, who was staring at her quite strangely.

"You're Izumi's daughter, right?" She asked. Mikan's chest tightened for a moment, and she nodded.

"Yes. I'm Izumi's daughter." She replied shortly.

The noise in the bus was escalating, and the rain was pouring heavily on the bus' roof.

The elderly woman squeezed her hand, and she smiled in return.


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Three blue sparrows flew overhead, a stark contrast to the bleak sky. Smoke rose into the air from a distance, giving the impression that a grassfire had taken place before being quenched by the rain.

Mikan stared at the stoned path and sighed. It had been a long time since she was here, too long maybe, but the place was still the same. The people were born, grew up, lived their life and died in this town. The rusty sign post that used to bear "Soroichi" still endured, the remaining letters o, i, c, h, i reminding her of a brand of chips from the city.

It took awhile to catch sight of the brick houses that lined the hills. Red, maroon and light blue painted the roofs, while the bricks remained unadorned save for a few seashells on their front doors. Wild grass was everywhere but a huge, weathered stone rose from their midst, and Mikan froze.

It was covered in moss, but she still recognized the harsh slash on its side.

If you just stand on this, you would see the house.

You would see me.

You would see me.

You would see me.

She snapped out of her trance when she felt her legs move. She was so close now, she would avoid it, she can avoid it like she always did, this was no time to panic, no one saw her, no one will come—

"Kami-sama."

A familiar, high-pitched voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned around slowly with a smile. Then she burst into full-blown laughter.

"Kami-sama, she's here, she's here, I never thought she would come back. You brought her back to us, thank you Kami-sama, I'll water you tomorrow so you can grow bigger, thank you Kami-sama, thank you…" A woman in her forties sunk onto the wet ground and hugged the tall grass beside her, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Cheryl, it's just me." Mikan called out and moved forward, still half-laughing. The woman paid no attention and continued to hug and sob into the tall grass.

"Cheryl, stop over-reacting. It's just me, I'm back." She knelt beside her but dared not to drop the bags lest they get wet.

"It just rained, that plant has enough water to last for a week. And what you're doing is unhygienic. Please stand up now." She sighed and stood up when she still got no response.

"Oba-san." She called and tilted her head. Immediately, the woman stopped sobbing and stared at her with wide eyes.

"Oba-san, please stand up now… Or would you rather I call you auntie?" Mikan drawled lazily and walked past her. There was a dark flash and suddenly the woman was before her, her eyes red-rimmed and narrowed.

"I told you not to call me that." She spoke slowly and menacingly, that the birds stopped chirping and the sky seemed a shade darker. Mikan just pushed past her.

"Whatever, Cheryl. I'm back and you're sobbing and holding onto the grass. Please continue."

The stone house was just meters from her, and as she walked down the path her eyebrows furrowed once more because the house was just one of the few houses who chose not to have bricks and she wondered why and her head was throbbing she stopped before the slightly ajar door.

I'm back.

She raised her hand and pushed the door forward, revealing the worn-out, gray sofa, the broken lampshade that rested on the wall and the disaster of a mat that she had knit on her third grade that spelled a lopsided 'Welcome'.

"Seven years, Mikan. Seven years without as much as a letter, a call, or anything for us to know how you are." Cheryl's voice echoed into the room from behind her, and she turned around.

The earlier devastated woman stood with her arms spread wide with a grin, and Mikan rushed forward.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. If it's not too late… I'm back." She replied and heard her words echo into the house that was filled and empty of her memories, at the same time.


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"How were you when I was gone?" Mikan asked and reached for a piece of bread across the table while Cheryl prepared hot chocolate for herself and green tea for her niece.

"Well… I knew you were going away soon enough so I kind of… set-up my own knitting business." She smiled sheepishly and returned to the table with their refreshments. Mikan nearly dropped the bread knife.

"Oh no, Cheryl. You're pushing your 'I-am-a-maiden-forever' title to the next level!" She chuckled and shivered as the cold wind blew from the open window.

"Excuse me. I am a modern woman with a modern knitting business." Cheryl defended and proceeded to a stand, opened a drawer and took out a clump of red. Mikan raised an eyebrow.

"This is my first masterpiece. I have already sold the rest and I'm saving this for myself." She said proudly and unfolded the red clump.

Mikan had to give it to her; it was an interesting piece and undoubtedly quite puzzling therefore modern. Foreign words were knitted at the front: Pipiliin Pa Rin Kita.

"So… What do the words mean?" She asked and traced a finger on the pattern. Cheryl smiled slyly and sat back down.

"It's for me to know and for you to find out." She mouthed softly and busied herself with buttering her bread.

The sky was darkening once more, causing the wind to blow stronger and colder. Leaves fell from their branches and danced in the wind, and as she stared at the spectacle, her eyes saw beyond.

The Vilas are sad again, eh? See, the skies are gray and it's going to rain.

How do you think could we make them happy?

"So what brought you back here?" Cheryl spoke with a mouthful of bread that Mikan cringed.

"Ummm… Actually, I'm staying here—" She nervously watched her aunt nod her head in understanding before continuing.

"—for good." Distorted bread with saliva flew across the table and Mikan backed away in terror. Cheryl had her mouth hanging open in shock before noticing how she looked.

"Mikan, we both know that can't be. You may stay here for a day or two—a week's pushing it really, but, I don't… Please just know that you can't stay here." She pleaded, and although her eyes kept saying 'Sorry, I'm sorry' over and over again, Mikan stood up with cold anger.

"This is the only place I want to be in, yet for some reason I can't stay." She spat.

"You don't understand, it's not that—"

"Oh, I get it. You want me out so that I wouldn't see the old man and have—"

"We both know that's not—"

"I'm not a little kid anymore. I know the tragic story of my parents and—"

"You don't know the whole story—"

"Then please enlighten me!"

"You're not ready yet." Cheryl bowed her head and reached for the fallen knife while Mikan watched her crouch down with a fierce glare.

"Oh please. So are you now working with my excuse of a mother and—"

"No, Mikan. Listen to me, I would never conspire against you and you know—"

"Hush now, Cheryl. We're doing this for her own good." A cold voice cut through the air and two heads snapped to see a figure of a woman clad in black blazer and slacks. Time seemed to stop for a moment and neither party moved and inch. Finally, Cheryl placed the knife back on the table.

" 're here." Cheryl's acid voice matched the atmosphere as it started raining heavily outside. No one bothered to move and close the open windows that their faces were sprayed with cold water.

"Apparently, I am. I'm here to take Mikan home." She answered lightly and turned to her daughter who had completely gone still.

"Hours have passed Mikan. I gave you time. Let's go home now." She stepped forward to clutch her arm but Mikan flinched away.

"I'll go back to your house, Mom. But please grant me this favor." She voiced nonchalantly and raised her eyes.

"Anything." Yuka stepped back and stared back expectantly.

"Please break off the engagement."

At her statement, Yuka seemed to lose her strength in surprise and Cheryl merely dropped her arm. Mikan stared at her mother, almost begging her with her eyes, and waited.

"No can do, honey. I believe you have accepted that from the very start." She replied and turned her back to retrieve the pack of Mikan.

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yes, that's my final answer." Cheryl stood frozen as her niece turned to look at her, eyes filled with betrayal, longing, and then resignation.

"Alright, let's go."

"Mikan don't go. Please, don't go." She whispered loud enough for her to hear but if she had heard it, she gave no sign.

The rain was pouring more heavily now, and Yuka signaled for her driver to hand over an umbrella when Mikan just walked past them, her pace growing quicker and quicker.

"Mikan? You're going to be drenched come back here!" She shouted over but Mikan paid no heed and continued forward, almost tripping over the scattered stones and swatting away the leaves the cold wind blew unto the air.

She continued forward, and this time she was running, running and running fast to god knows where and didn't even stop when she had slipped on wet stone. A familiar voice resonated in the air, calling out her name and that made her even more eager to run away-

The Vilas are sad again, eh?

A pair of hazy headlights appeared from a distance, and Mikan recognized it as the bus that brought her back to her home. It was moving closer and closer now, the faint light growing brighter.

Finally realizing the absurdity of her situation, Mikan let out a laugh and walked towards the middle of the road.

How do you think could we make them happy?


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Natsume dropped his book when lightning flashed and struck a nearby tree. It was raining heavily and the burning would soon be quenched, but as he watched from his window, he felt a strange pang of pity.

Undoubtedly, the flames were quickly doused, leaving a bent stature that was burnt, broken, and dead.


Author's Note:

*A Vila is the Slavish version of a nature spirit such as a naiad, dryad etc. that you wouldn't want to piss off. Haha

*Pipiliin Pa Rin Kita- I will still choose you. [Filipino- English translation]

Please review :)

Y. M. H. O