CHAPTER 10 - MARIA
If I had discovered, six years ago, any irrefutable proof of what really happened to Kyoko, the situation would be different. If I had done my job properly, I would have found her alive, I would have had her testimony, and I could open the throats of the two cursed men who attacked her.
The Council would be pissed at me, but would be they swallowing their anger, not me. They could do nothing against me or against Kyoko, since I had the authority granted by them, and until then Kyoko was seen as a talented young woman of fourteen, received by the Clan to be protected, not to be raped and murdered. By law, I had ample decision on the punishment to be applied on them, from confiscation of property to death.
I would have no doubt as to which sentence to apply.
However, the outcome was not favorable, and now my word on the case weighs on Kyoko. Like she needed another reason to hate me...
I tell myself that my need to protect her comes from my debt to her. And the list keeps growing: I killed the man who helped her; I failed in the performance of my role and therefore did not give the case the fair outcome; I compromised her testimony; and, above all, now I discover that my incompetence has also caused suffering to Maria.
I cannot even imagine the struggle of Kyoko, injured, alone and pregnant. Without a single person to turn to, fearing not only for her own life but also for her daughter's.
I know this world belongs to the strong. However, what amazing force is this that Kyoko has?
I deeply wished we did not need to use Maria as an argument. Of course, Lory would protect her with or without Kyoko's cooperation, but the plan was to use her hatred and mistrust against the Masters to our advantage, to make her believe that Maria would not be safe if she did not cooperate with us .
An odious but efficient plan. And one more reason for her to hate the Masters.
One more reason for her to hate me.
"You cooperate with us, and I swear the Fuwa Clan will never lay hands on Maria. I swear your daughter will be safe"
I see all the blood draining from Kyoko's face, her eyes turning in the sockets and her knees giving way. I can get to her before her fainting body hits the ground and I lift her in my arms.
Lory is finally showing some regret about the situation. For a moment, I imagined that I was the only one troubled by what we were doing to her.
"Master Takarada, the Tsuruga Clan is grateful for your hospitality. We're leaving immediately"
"Why the formality, Ren? Are you mad at me for what I did to Kyoko?"
I cannot answer; the duality is too strong. I know that Lory's plan is the best there could be and that thanks to him we will be able to prevent Kyoko from putting herself in more danger, but being impassive watching him press her enough to make her faint demanded too much of my self-control.
And I'm not called 'Monster' for my wonderful self-control.
All I can do is squeeze her against me and tell myself that the worst is over. Lory must have noticed my discomfort, because he smiled broadly.
"Of course you can go. By the way, you must go. But Kyoko will remain here for a few more days"
Damn it, I should have known he'd come up with one more idea to screw me up!
"I see no reason for Kyoko to remain here"
"Do not you see motives? Well, I can name a few: first, she needs to recover. Second, you need to define how you will hide her and keep her away from Kimiko and Ruriko, since you cannot just show up with a new procreative, coming from who knows where, and rub her in the face of two noble daughters who are committed to getting you married"
Shit, I forgot both! That is why Yashiro is my Counselor, to warn me about the times when my emotional side obscures my rationality, but for the moment, the traitor is looking at me with an irritating expression of triumph.
"Oh, I can even see the unfolding of the confrontation! How long do you think it would take them to kill each other?"
Sometimes I think I'm the older brother. Especially when Rick behaves like a little boy in his games and bets. Nevertheless, I suppose they are right, a confrontation would be inevitable, and the last thing I need now is to have to explain to their parents what happened to their daughters.
Or that something happens to Kyoko, when my argument to take her with me is to protect her.
"It would be an epic showdown, I have no doubts!"
Lory has always been more patronizing to Rick than to me.
"Third, I am not so cruel as to drive away mother and daughter without allowing them to talk"
Okay, this is a strong argument.
"…Does Maria still refuse to eat?"
"Yeeeeessss! And she does not talk to me eitheeeeeer! "
Okay, it's time for another show from Lory.
I ignore the tantrum and warn Lory that I'm taking Kyoko to the room she was already occupying as he whimpers and writhes and dramatizes every time the "granddaughter impossibly cute" has rejected his, Kouki and Lina's attempts to make her cheer up and eat, "mercilessly breaking the heart" of all of them.
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My consciousness floats and I float along with it. There are arms carrying me and I am firmly pressed to a broad chest that should be too hard to be comfortable, but comfort is what I feel.
The situation reminds me of my childhood.
I remember how my father laughed all the time about the things I did. I think he liked me. A little. But my father always stopped playing with me when my mother saw us.
It took me years to understand my mother. It was not really fitting to cling to me, if my existence was simply to grant them a one-way ticket to a better life, within the middle walls of the Guilds, in shelters more secure and comfortable and with better professions.
My mother had no education, but today, when I recall the years when we lived together, I see clearly how she was responsible for keeping my father focused. Outside our home, a shack with two makeshift rooms, she was like every woman, walking with me behind my father and with her head down, but when we returned, it was she who did all the planning of how we would continue to survive.
I just cannot hate her.
The memories I have before my five years are summed up in the semester's goings to the exhibition fair of the Middle Town. We walked a lot, a lot! I wore my best outfit - which was my only outfit, only with new patches - and was reminded to smile at all times. "Smile, Kyoko! Do not stop smiling! "
I smiled so hard that my cheeks ached.
I remember I did not want to smile: I just wanted to admire that beautiful and clean place and those smiling and well dressed people, but my mother squeezed my hand tightly and whispered in my ear that I should stop making a stupid expression and smile, or else.
But smile without reason is not stupid ?, I remember thinking once.
After walking so much and spending an eternity standing and smiling, we would return home. It was the worst part of all, the return home. Not only because I was already tired, but because I did not understand the reason to go back to such an ugly and dirty place, being that there was such a beautiful place with enough space for the entire Mogami district, maybe even more!
And my mother absolutely furious that I was not "chosen" again.
She was always steaming with anger when I got tired of walking and was slowing her down, but I knew that in public she could not beat me. And my father, realizing that we were getting too far behind, would always come back and pick me up.
It was good, to be carried by my father. Even if I had to see my mother's distorted expression over his shoulder, it was worth it. It was worth it even with the beating that I took later when we got home.
Near my six years, I finally asked him why we always went back to the Mogami District if there was such a better place to live. The answer came from my mother.
"It's your fault! Because you are worthless and all the nobles know it! Because of you we have to live in this dump! "
It was at the fair of my six years that my parents' fortunes changed. And mine too, but in unthinkable ways. A very blond, blue-eyed boy stopped at the stage where I was, along with the other children on display, and pointed at me.
It was Reino.
The patriarch Fuwa appeared soon after and observed me closely. My mother behind him gestured for me to smile. He bent down and asked something to the boy, who just nodded, and minutes later I was being taken to Fuwa territory to begin my training.
I had a room just for me in a palace full of rooms. I was taught to read, write and count and weigh ingredients. In the rare moments of rest, I played with Sho. One day I asked about the boy who was with Master Fuwa on the day of the fair, since it would be good to have someone else to play with, but Yayoi's face was as ugly as my mother's, so I decided to never ask again.
I lived eight years in that tiring, yet comfortable routine. It is shameful to admit that I had completely forgotten how the life I left behind was difficult and how unfair it was that so few people had so much, while so many had nothing.
I allowed myself to be alienated by the sweet illusion that the immaculate walls of the Fuwa palace represented and believed to be loved. Until I was attacked.
Then, only struggle and pain. Struggle and pain. Struggle and pain.
I remember the uncultured man of few teeth and stinking of sweat of days telling me quickly what to do and what not to do.
Damn the opinion of the Renaissance: my angel was ugly, cursed and stinks.
I remember waking up without him around and crying as I hugged the digger outfit he left at my feet. I remember devouring the little food he had and believing it to be spoiled, because I was sick for days.
I remember wandering around. I remember stealing food and begging. I remember endless hunger and constant fear. I remember everything as if I were watching from outside my body. As if seeing someone else's life.
I remember fainting a few times and waking up scared, afraid someone had discovered me. Until I realize no one pays attention to a hungry and sick Exiled.
When I felt something kicking inside me, I cried for hours on end.
No one looked at me twice or tried to stop me when they saw me walk towards the Wastelands: I was just another hopeless, worm-laden boy who decided to end his life in the desert.
They did not know that I was just following the small black spots that whispered in my head the direction to follow. My ardent desire for food, shelter and revenge had finally materialized and helped me find and get everything I needed.
In one of my wanderings, I saw in the distance an entourage of desert nomads. With the passing of the weeks and several meetings later, I could no longer say whether I was constantly seeing the same entourage or whether there were several, until finally I began to feel pain.
Yes, I remember the pain. And then, more pain.
I remember practically dragging myself into a cave, not even caring if some beast lived in it. If it did, my roars would most likely have chased it away.
I do not remember removing the overalls or lying down, but I remember being alone and the sight of my bare legs. I remember the blood. I remember the echo of my own screams.
I remember the torch, the nomad, the fear.
I remember more nomads appeared, maybe four or five of them. What looked like the youngest put a cloth over my parted legs. The older man touched my belly with hot, callused hands and spoke something I did not understand and in a cadence that sounded like a song. Or was it a prayer?
I remember feeling so much pain that I could not feel anything but it. Not even fear, just pain.
So I remember the pain ending and the angry cry of Maria. I agree, my daughter: this world sucks and now you're in it. I do not expect you to forgive me for it someday.
I can only promise you that I will dedicate my life to making it a less shitty place for you to live.
The oldest and the youngest stayed with us for two more days and looked after us. They said nothing, just provided everything we needed.
I remember thinking vaguely that they treated us like we were precious, a solitary girl of fifteen and her newborn, for a day not sharing the same date of birth.
Still, I kept the fear of what they could do to us. I remained suspicious even when I left with them on the third day.
A contradiction, I know, but I could not help it; not when I knew nothing about babies and they seemed to have some knowledge.
Not to mention that it was convenient to mix with them, always with their heads covered and wandering.
On the seventy-first day accompanying the entourage of the nomads and pretending to be one of them, my projections had found the unthinkable.
It was there that I would accomplish my revenge.
I left the party three months later. Three months, in which I did not allow myself to trust those silent men, even when I must admit they were of inestimable help.
Surviving alone and taking care of Maria was a challenge, but the worst was finding a way to make her safe in the long run.
I made many plans, which were merged and replaced several times, until I accepted that I could not keep her. Not if I really wanted to protect her.
Maria made me visible. A Digger and a baby drew a lot of attention. And if I were caught and demanded explanations... if they discovered my identity...
Maria would be delivered to her father.
Not even on my corpse!
Yes, she would be safer away from me. However, how do I move away and ensure her safety at the same time?
The answer seemed to be in the Kotonami District, where a family exceptionally skilled at multiplying but ill-favored by the nobles for never selling their children lived.
I got a shack nearby, watched them for a while. I noticed the difficulties they faced, and yet in their refusal to sell children or offer single women as procreative.
If there was a family that would stay with Maria despite any difficulty, it was the large family of the Kotonami District.
I had to give up Romeo and Juliet and Othello to have sufficient resources to take care of the most urgent needs of that family, but I do not regret it, since it was agreed that I would help them and they would receive Maria as if she were their daughter.
Nobody was surprised, after all, they had already lost count of how many children they had accumulated.
Maria, the distant relative of the Digger 47, also known as Rat. Orphans.
For Maria's new family, I was just a well-meaning kid, unwilling to give the baby away to an orphanage, where she would be precariously cared for until she was sixteen and become another human reproduction machine.
If she could get pregnant.
Not even on my corpse!
My mistake was not being able to stay away from her. I spent weeks in the Wastelands, putting my plan into practice and digging up relics, but I always went back to the shack in Kotonami District.
As the years passed, Maria began to follow me. I did not want her to come and see me, but she came, and though I quarreled with her every time, my complaints and warnings did not have any force. Because I wanted to have her around and she knew it.
Because it's part of her ability to sense people's hidden intentions.
When Maria was kidnapped, I wanted to hate the Kotonami family. However, I could only blame myself: it was because of Maria's escapades to come and see me that she ended up in the hands of the kidnappers. It was by supposedly belonging to such a large family that she became a target.
If only I had managed to stay away. If only I had given her to a smaller family, whose lack of a member was perceived more quickly and generated more commotion.
Maria took an unthinkable risk. It was as if no matter how hard I tried to keep her safe: if I could protect her from danger, a bigger one would come.
I found her doped in a filthy lair in the desert, unconscious with other children still alive, but not for long.
The kidnappers spoke of the softness and succulence of the flesh of younger children. They salivated and praised the skills of the Butcher Brothers, who would return from a delivery within a few days.
There were nobles buying the meat.
I counted seven hijackers, nine when the Butcher Brothers arrived; too many people to try to fool or face alone. I did not want to risk being discovered, or that they would kill the other children in the desperation to vanish with the evidence if they were suspicious that someone had discovered the captivity.
My best way out was anonymous denunciation.
I was close enough to try to save Maria if something went wrong, but far enough not to be discovered. My projections told me how the three men quickly exterminated all the kidnappers. So quicker than I guessed, that I could not get Maria before they invaded the place where the children were "stored".
I heard one of them throw up. Welcome to my world, big boy!
I left without Maria, but satisfied enough to imagine that she would return to her parents in the Kotonami District.
I did not expect Lory's interference, claiming that the girl had disappeared because they had too many children and could no longer take care of them all; arguing that it was detrimental to infants to live huddled that way and without proper supervision.
Right. As if the Exiles were living in decent conditions to begin with!
He manipulated the situation in such a way that the couple had no choice but to deliver Maria to him. It was that, or lose all the children to an orphanage run by the Council, which would mean losing Maria anyway.
One of my biggest fears came true: Maria was in the possession of a Clan.
All I ever wanted was to protect her. How could things have gone so wrong?
Now Lory knows she's my daughter and he's blackmailing me for my cooperation. Damn Masters, they're all the same!
That's why I'm going to end them all.
I do not know why my conscience is making me relive everything now. Everything that started that afternoon of my six years, when Reino pointed at me, Master Fuwa bought me and I was taken from my parents.
I never saw them again. I do not miss my mother, but that afternoon I waited anxiously for the moment when my father would pick me up and carry me back to our shack in the Mogami District.
Maybe it's because of that. Maybe I was still waiting for the moment when I would be held and carried home.
The arms that surround me seem stronger than my father's, the chest seem broader and the smell is different, but damn it, I'm not in a position to be picky nor can I reject any relief that comes up.
No matter how imprecise, whatever comfort my confused mind wants to give me, I am accepting.
A/N - Okay, this was the hardest chapter ever! From now on... no, I cannot promise that it will be easier, but at least it will have more fun and sexy touches that will make the reading less painful (fingers crossed!)
Thank you very much for all your support and consideration! It's unexpected, my intention was just to put out a story that haunted me for months XD
Good to know that now it chases you, too = P
Kisses!