Krampus: Glad you found a few laughs. I enjoyed writing the fun scenes very much. Anyways, here's the update and the answer to the graffiti. Thanks for reading!
Zelene2004 and DiesIraeXIII: thank you:D I'll try to update more frequently... I know I've been slow.
Silent Ee: Yes... Personally, I like angst too... as long as there is a happy ending. So don't worry, this one will have one... Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Thanks for reading!
Mari: Sorry for all the thanks for other than "thank you", I really don't know how else to express my gratitude. Anyways, Haruka has really grown on me aside from being overboard 99 of the time. She is a very sincere and strong girl... just needs a few adjustment.
Soukyuu: Thank you! Not sure if my ShizNat is that accurate but I can say that I think about them often... especially Shizuru.
TeresaKaiju: You are right. Shizuru does not deserve such treatment. But there's something so beautiful about Shizuru when she's hurt... and when she gets her happy ending, hopefully it'll make the pain worth it
fan-rei: Natsuki, in general, needs a lot of waking up, especially Mai HiME Nat. I mean, DAMN IT WOMAN! It's SHIZURU! How can you resist! Nat needs new glasses.
Rain54: I can't thank you enough for your constant support since the days of Duty that Binds. You seemed to have read almost everything I've written so far. So a heart-felt thank you and allow me to dedicate this chapter to you.
Writer-jm: Yes... you are right... I've changed the category. (Actually, i kindda regret not putting the latest two chapters as a separate fic on their own... anyways, too late... oops.) And I did ask Faith for permission a long time ago. She said yes, but I just felt bad... anyways, when I do change it, I'll let you know (which might be a long time from now considering how damn slow I am)
xSojix: Thank you!
Sammyrose115: LOL! I honestly though MO Nat was kindda (really) useless too. Anyways, I will try to make her useful... sometime later. Otherwise, poor Shizuru is the one to suffer.
Interstate 405: Sorry... it beens months?
The Little Things Chapter 11:
The Path of No Return: The Last Battle III
By: Seravy
Edited by: Kieli
Dedicated to: Rain54
NOTES:
Gokurou-san – a common Japanese phrase that basically means "Thanks for your hard work." Usually a way to congratulate and show appreciation after someone has completed a task.
Fujinozuka "藤之塚"- old traditional family names sometimes use "nozuka" as part of their surname. They also seem to have a tendency to be long.
Kurenai "紅" – deep red or crimson
(the following information was taken from Feel free to wiki any of the following terms to find more information about them. I didn't include links as it screwed up the formatting somehow.)
Tanto – the dagger/knife used to commit Japanese ritual suicide of "Seppuku", also known as hara-kiri. It is usually single or sometimes double sided blade with a length of about 15–30 cm (6"–12")
Kamakura Period – A period in Japanese history (1185-1333) which is considered to be Japaneses Middle Ages.
Seppuku- also known as hara-kiri ("stomach-cutting" or "belly slicing"), seppuku is a form of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment
Kaishaku – "assistant", or the person responsible to do the beheading in the ritual of seppuku
Murderer. Traitor.
Fujinozuka Kurenai.
Each character was neat and fluid with a definite style of calligraphy despite the drips of paint that bled down along the walls as it dried. Shizuru's chest hurt as air refused to enter her lungs. It was as if bare hands where gradually crushing her torso. Her eyes refused to blink, staring straight ahead, hoping that somehow it'd fade away. She didn't even hear Natsuki repeatedly calling her name as the pain in her head and stomach returned with a vengeance.
"There she is!" came a loud scream, "The traitor and the murderer!"
It was a typical voice of any young boy but what distinguished it was the unique accent of Kyoto. From his towering position on top of the front gate's left cement ledge, he raised his arm, the tip of a gleaming bladed weapon openly pointing at her. His other hand clutched the wooden handle of a dripping brush, the coarse bristles saturated with thick bright red paint. The stains on his white wind breaker jacket and blue jeans matched that colour as well.
Shizuru felt their gazes meet, a pair of mahogany eyes blazing into her with unbidden intensity.
"Fujinozuka Kurenai!" he roared, his voice cracking from the sheer volume, "This is the woman who betrayed her own family and killed my father!"
The boy then hurled the pail with all of his strength, launching it at a nearly flat angle. Shizuru barely even noticed the hard tug on her arm, stumbling several steps back as a loud sharp clang brought her breathing back. The pail missed her by a little less than a meter.
Every little noise flared in her ears then disappeared into silence. She wanted to run but remained frozen to the spot as every pair of eyes around focused on her. Their mouths were all moving, talking, whispering, cursing, accusing. Her heart pumped rapidly in her chest, her own breathing rasping loudly, long and suffocating, unable to distinguish the rush of words from one person to the other. It was all too familiar.
The damp wetness on her calves compelled her to look down. At her feet was a pool of red. Some of it even got onto her coat, a few splatters on her hands. Just a short distance away, she could see something rolling back and forth. It had a long tail of black hair. She suddenly realized what she was looking at…a severed head, bleeding at where it should have been connected to a body. As it lolled to one side, she saw a face… one which she could never ever forget.
Murderer. Traitor.
Shizuru slowly looked up, nothing that the boy was still pointing at her, his mouth moving soundlessly like everyone else. She saw him jump down from the ledge, disappearing into the crowd. Surrounding students screamed with alarm, dodging to a side as a path was quickly cleared, revealing the boy madly swinging his dagger.
Their eyes met once again and the child immediately thundered his way towards her, his weapon raised above his head. Shizuru wondered what it'd feel like to have the gleaming blade slip into her stomach and rip her open.
Before the boy reached her though, a swift shadow moved in front of her. It didn't take Shizuru long to notice who it was.
In one fluid motion, Natsuki grabbed the boy's weapon arm then twisted it behind his back until the dagger fell out of his hand with a sharp clang. Jabbing her heels into the backs of his knees, he fell to the ground and Natsuki securely pinned him down.
Executive board members quickly rushed over, taking Natsuki's place in holding the boy down. With their cooperated efforts, they restrained the teenager then hauled him to his feet.
Shizuru looked to the severed head again. A bucket. It now lay on its side, split red paint coated the ground. An illusion… a memory… She felt Natsuki looking at her worriedly, asking if she was alright. Even though Shizuru wanted to answer her, she found herself unable to produce the right smile or the right words. Instead, she tightened her jaw and walked purposely towards the young man who tried to kill her just seconds ago. Everyone was watching, waiting expectantly for Fujino-kaicho, the most revered student council president in all of Fuuka Academy's history.
Shizuru met his angry gaze unflinchingly, every muscle controlled to perfection to carry out the task assigned. The boy spat on her face and even though the council president knew it was coming, she made no move to evade it. Instead, Shizuru simply removed a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away the spit.
Traitor. Murderer. "I believe you've mistaken me for someone else," said Shizuru. Her voice remained soft but the words left her mouth without its usual fluid quality. A look of regret or reproach would have been appropriate but she just couldn't do it.
"My name is Fujino Shizuru an--"
"You think changing your name and running away is going to make what you did go away?" sneered the boy with a maliciousness that contorted his otherwise handsome features. He looked barely out of his teens.
"I was there. I saw you… And I never once forgot your face! You're nothing but a cold-blooded murderer and a traitor! And now… everybody knows."
The boy grinned. It was a wide smile filled with sadistic satisfaction, giving his pronouncement an air of calm and gleeful finality. There was only the whistling of the winds as the silence soaked up his every word. Inside Shizuru though, the stillness seemed deafening.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your father but you are mistaken. And within this misunderstanding, I'm sure you're old enough to realize the severity and inconsideration of what you've just done. We have no choice but to take further action to ensure the safety of our students."
The boy merely laughed at her, shaking his head as he allowed his body to lay limp within his restraints.
"It's forever on your hands. You'll pay for your crimes, Fujinozuka Kurenai."
There was that name again. Shizuru could feel her heart attacking her chest painfully as if banging for a way to escape. Her head swam, her limbs were heavy and weak but it was something she could not tolerate. Not here, not now. Taking an inaudible breath, a layer of control that she had mastered settled in. Anything that attempted to rise was forced back to where it belonged. She swiftly turned her back to the boy then calmly handed out instructions over another stream of accusations.
Traitor. Murderer.
The boy was taken to the council meeting room. The defacement was left to the school janitor with council volunteers to join him later in the clean up after school. Students lingering around the scene were instructed to return to class. Natsuki had wanted to follow but with the help of the executive board director and her megaphone, she was quickly ushered along with her fellow classmates.
Traitor. Murderer. Traitor.
Everything moved along accordingly and efficiently. Unfortunately, the most critical task proved to be the most difficult. There was little they could do as the boy simply continued to scream. There were threats of revenge against the council president and various other accusations that carried through the halls, behind the closed doors of the council meeting room. Shizuru knew they were getting no where and decided to voluntarily leave the conference. The boy was left with the vice president, the executive board director and the council's secretary.
Murderer. Traitor. Murderer.
With the free time she now had, the council president took the opportunity to clean her hands and coat. She knew that the stains would begin to set but at least it wouldn't be as obvious until she had the opportunity to change. The splatters on her hands, however, proved to more stubborn than she had thought. She tried cleansing them several times but it simply refused to wash off, leaving behind a bright tinge of pink. It was only after several more attempts that she finally realized it was the colour of her irritated skin from the repeated washing. Traitor. Murderer. Traitor.
After she had finished, Shizuru made her way to the pool building.
Murderer. Traitor. Murderer.
Due to the weather change, the water had been drained with a large plastic sheet covering the now empty basin.
Traitor. Murderer. Traitor.
The building itself was just as vacant as Shizuru climbed the stairs to the highest floor and made her way to the unused change room.
Murderer. Traitor. Murderer.
It was a place that she knew no one would find her, not even a certain defiant and stubborn girl. After all, she had never shared this spot with Natsuki.
Murderer. Traitor. Murderer.
Traitor. Murderer. Traitor.
Traitor. Murderer. It's forever on your hands.
Picking up a mop she found leaning against the wall, Shizuru swung its length into the rusting old lockers. The loud ringing echoes rammed into her ear drums and droned out the whispers. It didn't take long before the hinges surrendered against her repetitive hits and the swinging door fell to the ground, beaten and battered. Still, Shizuru continued against the remaindering metal frame. It wasn't until the impact of her own power striped the mop from her hands that she finally stopped. Her arms fell heavily to her sides as she took a seat on the bench, palms burning, stinging and chafed. Her own breathing filled the silence and the whispering became barely audible.
There, Shizuru lingered in solitude until the last bell rang.
By the time she returned, the council room was empty. She liked how quiet it was, habitually making tea as she waited for the meeting rescheduled at five thirty. The heat of her cup stung her raw hands, pleasantly so, but the steam from the hot liquid within forced her to leave it some distance away.
Outside, the sun had already begun to set from the shortening daylight of the approaching season. Taking her usual seat that oversaw the entire room, Shizuru finally acknowledged the dagger sitting in the middle of her desk; the one that was confiscated from the boy no doubt.
It was about the length of a ruler, immediately identifying itself as a tanto blade. The artistry on the black handle and sheath was intricate and beautiful and Shizuru guessed its origin to be of the early Kamakura period . Picking up the dagger, she removed the blade from its casing. Compared to another weapon that she had handled, the blade was light, quite thin and without a ridgeline, designed primarily as a stabbing instrument.
Another fact of this particular blade crossed her mind then. Aside from being used for protection by tradesmen and women, this was also the blade employed in the ritual suicide of seppuku. Crucial to the way of the bushido, the samurai would slice open his own abdomen and allow his blood to wash away shame, dishonour and failure. It is a painful and gruesome way of death, ended by beheading. One could only hope that the appointed kaishaku in this ritual had a swift blade.
Watching the sharpened edge glimmer in the light, Shizuru noticed an engraving near the hilt. It resembled a shuriken with four prongs, each prong with a side that curved outwards and one that was simply straight. At the base of the flat end, the design cut in then out again in the form of a hook. Each prong also had its own small variations. Before she could catch every detail though, Shizuru consciously broke her own concentration and replaced the dagger back into its sheath.
Just as the weapon was returned to its original position, the wooden sliding door to her haven was pulled open with tremendous force. Shizuru showed no sign of surprise as she had heard those hard and purposeful strides well beforehand. Sitting up straight and taking her cup into her hands, the council president greeted the intruding guests.
"Gokigenyou, Suzushiro-san, Kikukawa-san," greeted Shizuru, "You're early."
The reply she received though was a thick folder slapped onto the top of her desk with the executive board director taking her usual position directly in front of her. Surprisingly but not unusual these days, the blonde simply stood with her mouth closed. Shizuru knew that her classmate was waiting for her to ask questions but failing to see the necessity of such an act, she remained silent. After having left the vice president in charge, she already had no doubt as to what the outcome would be.
"Gokurou-san," praised the council president, "Your hard work is much appreciated."
Yet another unsatisfactory response. Haruka could feel her jaws reflexively grinding together, hands balling into tight fists. Unlike the past, she could no longer take these words and pretend that they meant something. She wanted to scream but settled on barking out a command.
"Sign it."
"We're just following procedures so feel free to see yourself out after this," she added, a finger pointing to the exact location that required the council president's signature and stamp of approval on the front cover of the folder.
"Don't mind if I do," smiled Shizuru, "I'm rather famished having missed lunch earlier this afternoon."
"Just sign it, Fujino," growled the executive board director.
Putting her cup of tea aside, Shizuru reached out for the file but Haruka's finger held it in place like a dead paperweight, still pointing to the same location. The next few seconds passed without an ounce of movement from either side until the council president reached into the drawer and removed a pen from within. Pressing the tip against the indicated line, she started the first letter of her surname. The finger that tagged the page then suddenly transformed into a loud pound onto the desk. The impact caught the tip and stripped the pen from Shizuru's light grip. Without even looking up, she could feel the intense anger radiating from Haruka's direct glower, appalled by her ability to sign something without even a glance at its content. To the council president though, it was merely cooperation.
Shizuru reached out for her cup of tea, the coolness sitting in her hands preventing her from taking a habitual sip. She paid no heed to Haruka's silent expectations, allowing the executive board director's own contradicting actions to speak for themselves.
"Ha-Haruka-chan, we should get going. Didn't you say you wanted an early start on the clean up? " broke in Yukino. She stole a glance at Shizuru whose smiling gaze met hers. A brief icy shock attacked her heart and she couldn't help but duck away, shivering a little. Having witnessed this exchange, Haruka quickly stepped in front of her childhood friend, strengthening the glare that she had directed at her former arch rival.
Shizuru took this opportunity to retrieve the fallen pen and in one smooth motion, signed her name. Neither of the two witnesses moved to stop her as she proceeded to the exit. To a certain extent, this was a pleasant change. She was no longer obligated to pacify Suzushiro Haruka as appeasement had ceased to be an option.
As she passed by the executive board director, Shizuru heard her seethe, "What did you do to that boy, Fujino."
"Nothing," said the council president, "Good day to you all."
She then slid the door closed behind her. Predictably, another loud pound onto her wooden desk could be heard coming from the inside of the room.
'All in a day's work.'
What she hadn't expected though was someone waiting for her.
Just outside the empty halls directly across the student council room, Natsuki stood with her back against the windows, arms crossed. The setting sun glowed from behind, illuminating her dark mane of hair; it was as if she was surrounded by a halo of glorious tangerine light.
"Natsuki…" she felt herself breathe.
The younger girl took a few steps forward to bring them closer. Her arms remained crossed, jaw tight. Somehow, Shizuru found herself unable to look directly into those beautiful emerald eyes. There was a hard seriousness within them that seemed to be attacking her.
"You alright?"
"Everything is fine," smiled Shizuru, "Suzushiro-san wanted full responsibility of this case so I opted to leave early."
"I was talking about you," said Natsuki. Her tone was low and even, almost rigid.
"I'm fine," said Shizuru, "All thanks to Natsuki... Ookini."
"You know I had to."
Those words were spoken in a whisper as Natsuki's arms fell to her side. A flicker of sadness and concern glazed over what Shizuru had initially misinterpreted as anger as the young woman before her turned her head away, shyly. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be embraced, an irresistible urge to fall into Natsuki arms or even to just feel one of those calloused, gentle hands around hers. Just like when they disappeared and left the world together. Thankfully, her body refused to move, the subsiding pain in her palms keeping her head clear.
"What are they going to do with that boy?"
"The council has decided to hand him over to the police," replied the council president. She immediately caught the flash of panic and concern in those emerald orbs. Such was the young girl's gentleness, the beauty that she had tried so shamelessly to make her own.
"Charges will not be pressed. He's only being placed into their custody until they could find his parents. He will not be mistreated. Reito-san made sure of it," added Shizuru.
Natsuki nodded then fell silent again. Several times, those pinks lips moved, words forming on the tip of her tongue then disappearing as quickly as it peeked out. Shizuru knew the exact words that could disperse the uneasiness sitting so obviously within the younger girl but instead, she simply waited, like the guilty on the stand, privileged to speak only when spoken to.
"Why did you ignore me back there?" asked Natsuki finally.
"Kanin. At that moment, I was truly shocked. On the other hand, I also had to address the situation quickly before panic spread. I didn't mean to ignore Natsuki."
It was a neat and tidy answer. Perhaps too neat and tidy. However, before her doubt could surface, Natsuki felt a hand on her left shoulder, pressing gently.
"Thank you for coming. Seeing you here-- truly made me feel better."
The quiet gentle way that Shizuru had spoken those words immediately quelled the uncertainty resting in her chest. Natsuki managed a nod as she could already feel a pinch of heat warming her cheeks. Her previous doubts, the gut feeling in her stomach, just didn't seem reasonable anymore. Before she could catch a look at those exotic eyes though, the hand on her shoulder had already disappeared.
"Shall we return to the dorms? Night is approaching."
Natsuki trailed close by as Shizuru led the way. The council president made sure to fill any silence with small jokes and monotonous school related questions. The obvious effort the younger girl placed in her every reply was especially hard to ignore. A sour sort of ache seeped into her heart, watching Natsuki try so hard to laugh at the right places, to say the right things. It was even harder to pretend that she didn't notice but of course, Fujino Shizuru had no trouble in appearing so.
Far off, they could hear the church sounding its hourly bell. It was now five and time for the magic to dissipate with the skies darkening into night. As they stepped into the elevator, Natsuki invited her friend up for dinner (Mai was making curry as a courtesy to Mikoto's relentless begging) but Shizuru readily declined with an excuse she had prepared well in advance. With a sprinkle of good humour and a warning to attend classes, the two friends said their goodbyes as the elevator reached its first destination. Alone once more, the lift hummed its way to the next floor. Several girls who were visiting their friends stepped in, shyly greeting her before boldly mentioning the earlier incident. They expressed their concerns and Shizuru entertained them with a soft smile and small talk for the rest of the ride.
Several more girls greeted her during her short walk to the presidential suite. She could feel their curiosity lurking behind their lingering gazes and more than ever, she longed for solitude. Shizuru may not like the absolute stillness that came with being alone but it was only there that she found freedom. It was something that she had realized over the years, the only way for her to blend into the world, unnoticed, through the confinements of singularity. At one point, she questioned her discovery but that doubt had long since passed and she learned to crave solitude.
However, as Shizuru entered her room, instead of the comforting vestige of tea, a strong smokiness suddenly attacked her senses. Her book bag landed with a dull thump as it slid out of her hands, the smell invading her with its harsh, sweet familiarity. She felt her body stiffen as images fought to make her see what she never wanted to again.
It just couldn't be.
Shizuru shook her head to clear its incessant warning. The connection was there but she didn't want it to be true. Besides, how many times had she overacted with the slightest hint only to discover that it was just paranoia. It's alright she told herself once again. It was probably just a candle she had left burning or something she hadn't cleaned up.
She closed the door behind her. A soft click of swift metal whistled from within the dimly lit room. Her eyes were drawn to a point somewhere to her left where they caught a small pinhole glow that seemed to float mid-air. Reacting to the intrusion, Shizuru reached for the switch by the door, pinning the glow's position as light revealed its true form. And there, sitting on the edge of her bed, was what should not have been.
Shizuru felt her breath trapped by a sudden painful crushing in her chest, the smoky fumes burning inside her lungs. For a split moment, she stared, impossibility ripping into her heart and dragging everything onto her face.
"Hello, Kurenai. It's been a while."
The voice was powerful and thick with alto femininity, exactly the way she always heard it in her now infrequent dreams. Shizuru watched almost helplessly as those red painted lips pulled up with smirking delight around the black cigarette that fumed between them. Sobranie Black Russian. The end burned as the woman sucked a breath, a trail of thin gray wrapping around her like the finest sheer of translucent silk.
By most standards, this woman wasn't exceptionally attractive. Her eyes were thin almonds, a characteristic that would immediately identify one as being East Asian. Her nose was thin, small and ungraceful compared to the high, proud cheekbones that stood out from the haughtiness of her face. The fine cut of the black suit jacket complimented the woman's ever perfect figure of supermodel thinness. Creamy white skin almost without the pink of human flesh teased around the three unbuttoned buttons. The woman wasn't well endowed but nevertheless, she showed off her curves brashly. Deep obsidian eyes, its colour reflected in the woman's straight chin length hair, pinned Shizuru's limbs with its intensity. One would definitely adopt the term, 'hot'. 'Sexy'. The lighter in her hand whistled the metal contact which Shizuru had initially heard and was then casually thrown onto the bed covers. It was the one she had given her five years ago.
"Surprise!" said the woman gleefully, throwing her arms up. The evident joy slanted her thin eyes into slits although Shizuru could feel its surveillance seeping through.
"Didn't think you were the type to play school girl though," she drawled as she took another drag from her cigarette, "Heard you are quite the lady-killer."
Closing her eyes briefly, Shizuru took a silent shaking breath then smiled. Just behind her thin façade though, the labyrinth of emotions that she had swallowed rampaged for freedom, gnawing intensely in the pit of her stomach. It was telling her to run despite the utter foolishness of that instinct. Fighting her dry throat, Shizuru steadied her voice and responded.
"It's not hard. You know how little girls are. They are so willing to believe in anything that's beautiful."
"You're one yourself."
"Once," said Shizuru. The single word was curt upon her lips despite its steady rhythm.
The woman simply smiled in response, the one which Shizuru knew she always used when assessing an amusement. She uncrossed her legs, taking her time to slide them one over the other, the black knee-length mini skirt riding slightly up her thighs. Taking one last drag, she blew out another trail of gray then snuffed out the cigarette on newly changed sheets to join the five other dead butts.
Pushing herself up from the bed, she strolled over towards Shizuru, never once losing eye contact. It made her heart jump with thrill the way those maple eyes lost a bit of its control with every step that she took, no longer able to meet her gaze within its nakedness. Despite the indifference on that beautiful face, she could almost taste the delicious emotions just beneath. The thin mask of control was wearing and she ripped the last of it apart with the touch of her hand. Just as she remembered, her protégé was warm, the cheek cupped within her hand soft to her touch. There was no point in this meeting other than to prove to the young girl before her who she belonged to.
"My, how you've grown up."
Each syllable was laid out luxuriously over her sandy voice as the woman continued her gentle caress. Shizuru was as tall as her now and even more beautiful than she last remembered. Poor thing was stiff like a board like she was backed against the wall with no where to go. Deep dark eyes slanted with approval, moving even closer until their breasts and cheeks were touching. Arms moved to circle around Shizuru, pressing them even closer.
"I've missed you," she whispered into Shizuru's ear, "Did you miss me?"
The mixture of cigarette and perfume embraced the council president, who stood mute within the woman's arms. They stood there in silence until the woman slowly removed her hold. Hands lavished its attention over the contours of Shizuru's back as she withdrew.
"Well, I'll see you later."
The door clicked open.
"This time though… let's make an effort to keep in touch."
And she was gone but it was as if she was still here, arms around her ever so gently. The sweet smoky flavours of the woman's expensive cigarettes overtook everything within the room, a nostalgic scent that resurrected forbidden memories. Looking down to her hands, Shizuru wasn't surprised to find them visibly shaking. The barest of whispers left her lips, pronouncing the syllables that she hadn't spoken for years.
"Hisoka…"
--Her body was shaking, an agitating pain resonating from her core. She immediately knew what it was, hearing her own ragged breathing within the silence of her room. The weight of her body finally overtook the weakness in her knees and Shizuru slid onto the carpet with a frail 'thump'. Throwing her arms around herself, she squeezed as hard as she could, nails digging into the sides of her arms as she silently begged her body to obey.
She knew the exact cure to this and yet the answer failed to leave her lips, even as it cried repeatedly within her.
Natsuki.
The name which invoked so much warmth, gentleness and fear. She could entirely imagine how it would feel like to have her by her side right now, taking this all away with just a smile.
That would never be true though. Not anymore.
Immediately, her eyes shot open. How much did Hisoka know? Did she see Shizuru with her today?
Instinctual coldness filled her body with a familiar sense of control. She knew this woman like the palms of her hands. The fact that Hisoka had revealed herself indicated that they were already deep into the game. The boy was just the welcome party. Even though Shizuru knew she had made precautions over the years, the 'what-ifs' and impossibilities still swirled in her mind.
Shizuru stared at the six dead cigarette butts and black burnt marks left on the bed covers.
Hisoka may try to provoke her with what others would consider crippling hits but she knew that only a wrong move on her part would end this stalemate. Unlike chess, where one was permitted to make no moves, Shizuru couldn't afford to make one single mistake… not even the slightest one. What was at stake here was so much more then moving pieces on a checkered board. With her head clear and her body numb, she changed the sheets then waited for the sun to rise like every other night since the end of the festival.
The next day, during her Calculus class, she was invited for a cup of coffee at the police station. Like any good citizen, Shizuru readily complied but declined the coffee that came with it. What she didn't know was that she wasn't the only one who received an invitation.
Despite the fact that the blackboards were already full with English grammatical notes, the clean sheets of lined paper on her desk remained blank. She could hear every word explaining those concepts but that was all it was. Words. Without giving words meaning, they meant nothing.
Fujinozuka Kurenai.
Natsuki couldn't forget the way those five kanji characters had captured those maple eyes. They were wide with shock, the autumn calm and gentleness within swept away like crisp dead leaves under an unforgiving gust. It reminded her of when she had first learned of the truth. Shizuru had reached out for her with that same look in her eyes.
Natsuki quickly pressed the fingers of her right hand hard into her temples, forcing that last image to dissipate. The palm of her hand shielded her face as she wrote today's date on the paper's top right hand corner.
She trusted Shizuru and the older girl had distinctly said that that boy was mistaken. Her word should be more than enough. After all, they have promised each other to be honest. Yes, she trusted Shizuru. If there was something that her friend couldn't say, she would have at least acknowledged its presence.
Natsuki was actually sorely tempted last night to sneak out and find the police station that the boy was taken to if only to just clear this misunderstanding. It flooded her heart with anger that she could barely contain just recalling the way the boy had swung that dagger with the full intention of killing. Natsuki had vowed to herself that if that boy so much as touched a hair on Shizuru, she'd make him regret ever being born. It made her sick that someone so young had so much hate-- so much misplaced passion for revenge.
That could have easily been her.
In the end though, she did nothing. She hadn't contacted Yamada for information or made any other measures to protect Shizuru. All night, she had simply tossed and turned in her bed, her thoughts unable to find a direction. In the morning, like any other normal high school girl, she had risen at seven to attend classes.
Still, it simply wasn't enough. She had tried to be supportive but it was she who wound up being comforted by the end of the conversation. They were important to each other and Natsuki hated how she had almost interrogated Shizuru for answers. After all that Shizuru had given her, this was all she could do?
If only there was more… more to make Shizuru happy. A strange sort of fatigue slowly seeped in. If only--
"Kuga Natsuki-san?"
A low, gruff voice interrupted her as two shadows took over the brightness of the afternoon sun. Her brows immediately dipped with irritation as her lips and eyes tightened with its reflexive indifference. All eyes were upon them, hushed whispers flying about at this odd intrusion.
"Yeah, that's me," she replied, warily. The two men in suits looked at each other before producing their badges.
Stoned-faced, Natsuki glanced at the design of the gleaming piece of identification. They were genuine as she had learned to recognized fakes. This sort of knowledge used to be useful.
"I'm Detective Hayashimizu. He's Detective Yoshimoto. We'd just like ask you a few questions…"
The Path of No Return: The Last Battle III End