Chapter 9
The Ebbed Man I
Comments in general- sorry it took us so long to write a new chapter, life has been a little bit hectic and unfortunately it looks as though it will be that way again soon too *sigh* but we'll write as often and as much as we can and hopefully there won't be so many long gaps. Mitsuru's POV
Dropletofsour- Of course say what you think! So long as you're not flaming, which you're not, constructive criticism or honest thought is absolutely welcome. What kind of egotist would I be to only want to hear praise all the time? Anyhow, yes, I have not actually played the game all the way through as of yet (I'm waiting for it to come out on psp- 10 days!) but I check for validity with my co-writer and I've seen some key scenes that have allowed me to actually write seriously. So, in that regard, I guess I'll have to apologize to slipping out of character- I try hard not to but I freely admit Junpei is one of my lesser understood characters, simply because I've seen so little of him. Hopefully after I've played for a while I won't make such bad gaffs. However, the chapter was intended as a departure from drama and was a little bit exaggerated with intent- it was meant to be taken more lightly than the others. I do not see Junpei as a one dimensional character, I simply took an observed characteristic of his and stuck with it throughout the chapter. Think of it as a mood. I do not consider Junpei to be a complete, one-track-mind flake, and I don't intend to write him that way throughout the fic. Anyhow, thanks very much for your thoughts (particularly the bit about off-key narration, part of the reason I switch POV's is to practice getting different characters voices down right and this is a clear indication that I need to work on my Junpei! I hope you'll continue reading anyway haha.
Disclaimer; we own nothing yada yada yada (which we also don't own, sorry Seinfeld) Props to Shakespeare as well, the passage is from Antony and Cleopatra but no I'm not properly citing it because I'm highly lazy : ).
"And here, Caesar says; 'I should have known no less.
It hath been taught us from the primal state
That he which is was wished until he were,
And the ebbed man, ne'er loved til ne'er worth love,
Comes deared by being lacked. This common body,
Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion." I look up now and then from my book to gage their reactions as I recite the passage.
The rain patters against the window persistently, a soft song is being played by the old café radio in the back, and we are surrounded by a myriad mix of conversations and active cutlery. I mark my place in the book and close it gently. It is nice being here on Sunday as I believe that it is necessary to avoid stress like the plague- for it truly is just as deadly as disease would be.
It is late afternoon already and I have wasted my day with Takeba, Charla, Akihiko and Shinjiro milling around town aimlessly. We came here, to the café, when the weather took a turn for the worse and have been here ever since.
Akihiko puts his chin on his hand and frowns a little, stirring his coffee with a spoon absently. "That's politics, right?"
"Who knows? Old English translated to Japanese is garbage." Charla mutters irritably, grabbing her head and pouting. She's just bothered because she can't understand it.
In the booth beside us Shinjiro and Takeba are speaking of somewhat else. I try to look at them covertly- Takeba has been quite tense around me lately- and I am relieved to see that they are both visibly relaxed and Takeba herself is actually smiling. I can't help but smile a little myself.
"You're just bitter because you don't get it." Akihiko says to Charla, echoing my thoughts from earlier.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," Charla slumps forward on to the table, "You were not told to not be honest? That's not socially good. People don't like to be told their faults all the time. It's not polite."
Akihiko laughs and nudges her with his elbow, "And you shouldn't slouch. That's not polite either."
"I believe you are correct, Akihiko, in context at any rate. Caesar is contemplating the will of the people regarding both his popularity and the popularity of Pompey- that much is true." I interject, best to stop them now before the topic changes irrevocably.
Charla straightens up and nods at me with a mock-serious expression. "I concur. Indubitably."
Akihiko nearly chokes on his coffee and nudges Charla again, who crinkles her nose and grins. They're not focused today, apparently. That's all right, it is Sunday, and we don't have to do school work. I, however, do like Shakespeare. I should like to learn English someday, perhaps after I have become fluent in French. Or… perhaps not. Too many western languages. Chinese would be interesting as well.
"The ebbed man is interesting." Shinjiro murmurs from beside me.
I look over at him and smile. He does not lack intelligence, true, but I am certain that he has never been interested in old western literature. This is likely simply for my benefit. I glance over at Takeba, who has been monopolized by Charla. I look back at Shinjiro and smile, "How so?"
"The bit about… not being loved until he isn't worth it anymore and how that love only comes after he isn't around anymore. Can't say I get the first bit, but I've seen that second bit in effect once or twice. Lots of people only want what they can't get." Shinjiro says.
"I believe he means that he does not deserve love because by the time they want him back he has ceased to do things that make him worthy of love- he is simply absent and in the memory of others he is what he achieved although he is no longer capable of such acts any longer. Perhaps it has to do with age, or it may pertain simply to the existence of self in a certain time as it is true that the self is rarely solid and unchanging."
I think of Shinjiro as I say it, and then- strangely- of Minato. One is that man who never ceases to change- who is wanted by the world but only in his absence and only in an illusory apparition of who he once was, generated by the fancies of the past and the needs of the present. Him, the ebbed man. The other is anathema to such a character- a man who is forever solid in a world that never ceases to change- although how the world should react to him is unknown or, at least, undescribed by Shakespeare. A man unchanging….
I am distracted by a loud exclamation of disgust from Takeba and a hysterical bout of laughter from Charla.
"Do you feel better?" Charla asks, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Takeba looks nauseous and promptly spits out an unidentified circular white object into her empty water glass. "I feel minty, but not better."
"Well that is all right, I feel better, so at least some one got something out of this." Charla laughs. Akihiko shoots her a reproachful look.
Apart from Junpei- who was caught trying to set up a prominent display of Takeba's stolen undergarments in the school- everyone has been quite careful of hurting Takeba's feelings. It is understood, or at least intuited, by most that she is in a delicate state of mind after her experience in Tartarus.
Junpei… When I confronted him about his distinct lack of sensitivity he became defensive, naturally. He spoke, rather eloquently, of how being oversensitive was counterproductive for her. His belief is that restoring a sense of normalcy for her is tantamount and that 'tiptoeing' around her all the time is only reminiscent of our belief that she is weak and needs to be coddled. I… disagree, still, I think… But I am beginning to have doubts.
Takeba is smiling again, apparently egged into good humor by the laughter around her. She looks over at me and her smile disappears and so all at once my doubt intensifies.
The stakes are far too high though. How can I send her back there to confront Death? I cannot. I will not, even though it may mean I am to become vilified.
I match Takeba's gaze and raise my chin, nearly imperceptibly. She blinks and is then distracted by something Akihiko says. I turn my gaze away just as slowly, staring into my coffee cup before taking a long sip. Outside, the rain is beginning to relent.
"Well, I'm leaving." Shinjiro says, abruptly, standing up and crumpling his paper coffee cup. "Takeba?"
Takeba nods and stands up, excusing herself to us.
"Where are you two going?" Charla asks with that mischievous 'I-suspect-sex' tone that forever permeates her discourse.
"Just home." Takeba says, though something about her makes me suspicious.
"Be cautious… and safe." I say, and Takeba looks away from me with a pinched look on her face.
Shinjiro looks down at me with an inscrutable expression. But he nods at me and says good-bye to Charla and Akihiko, following Takeba out of the café.
I turn away from them and finish my coffee, gradually letting myself be lulled into casual, trivial conversation with Charla and Akihiko. In the end we remain in the café for nigh on an hour and when we leave the sky is rusted by dusk and the rain has disappeared entirely.
When Akihiko and I arrive back at the dorm I say good night to him and, plagued by an unsure but unpleasant feeling in my heart, I knock on Takeba's door. "Takeba? It's Mitsuru, are you there?"
I am answered only by silence, which disappoints me. I am about to say something to her when Minato comes down the stairs and spots me. I turn to look at him and inquire as to Takeba's whereabouts. I am disturbed when Minato shrugs.
"She's not here, but I don't know where she is." Minato says.
I thank him and can't help but look back at Takeba's door hopefully. I have a suspicion I know where she is but… There is nothing I can do. I must trust in her or… at the very least, I must place my trust in Shinjiro. Or… I look down at my hands and shake my head. I cannot be idle.
I head to my room and set down my book of Shakespeare, picking up instead my evoker. I hold the gun aloft for a moment and then carefully holster it. I will protect them, regardless of whether or no they will it. I sit down and wait for the Dark Hour.