The Boy from Sakuragoaka - Chapter 14
For the next hour, at the request of the group, Heero went over some of the more finer details of both his and Fumio's past. Dates, times, places, names, absolutely anything that could help in their quest to locate the original blueprints to Fumio's training program. Noin, in particular, seemed optimistic about there still being a chance of tracking them down. As Heero described some of the places and names, she kept making references of familiarity.
At around the same time as Quatre entered the room carrying their second tray of hot drinks that morning, the main room door opened, and Sally appeared.
"Morning everyone... again!" she said tiredly, in light humour. There were nods and subdued words of greeting.
"Did you managed to get some more sleep Sally?" asked Wufei.
Sally nodded, yawning. Quatre put the tray back down on the table and headed straight back out of the side door. About a minute later, he appeared again carrying a strong black coffee and handed it to her.
She nodded in obvious appreciation, "Looks like I've got you well trained," she grinned tiredly, "thanks, Cat."
Quatre smiled and nodded back.
"So, how is my patient?" she asked, walking towards Noin.
Fumio was still curled up like a cat, fast asleep on the sofa beside her, with his head resting on her lap. Hilde had recently covered him over with a blanket.
"He's been fine," replied Noin quietly, "just sleeping soundly."
Sally crouched down beside him and briefly inspected the bandaging on his arm, then felt his brow for temperature.
"That's good," she whispered, "the more he sleeps, the faster he'll heal."
She affectionately stroked the sleeping boy's hair before getting up and joining Heero and Quatre, sitting between them on the three-seat sofa.
"Sal, thank you for all your help last night," said Heero in a grateful tone, nodding appreciatively. "I don't think I would have been quite so calm had you not been here."
Sal patted her hand on his arm, "You're very welcome Heero. I'm just sorry about what happened, have you managed to make any sense of it yet?"
There were nods from around the room, and for the next few minutes, Sally was brought up to speed on the situation, and the plans to help track down the training blueprints.
Fumio quietly opened his eyes. He had been hearing mumbled voices for the past few minutes, although he hadn't taken much notice of what they were saying. He lay still for a moment, gathering his thoughts and his bearings. He suddenly felt soreness from all the little cuts and scratches on his face and arms, and a particularly nasty sting coming from his right forearm. Without moving, he cast his eyes toward the arm and immediately spotted the white bandaging.
He felt a sudden, desperate sinking in his heart. "Oh no," he gasped in silence to himself, "it really did happen again. I just thought I was dreaming."
A sense of growing inner panic started welling up inside him as he re-played over and over the series of dreamy and disjointed images he had somehow acquired within his mind. He tried to piece them together to figure out what must have taken place.
Suddenly he sat up, looking a little startled. Immediately the voices in the room went quiet, and then gentle but concerned words of greeting were sent towards him.
Fumio felt tired and confused. Trying his best to be polite, he quietly returned the greetings, simultaneously feeling a sense of embarrassment and exaggerated vulnerability. He felt an urgent need to get away from there, from a room full of eyes all looking at him.
He realised they were all eyes of concern; from people who seemed to show great care and love for him, but it did little to quell his need to get away. He could feel the room feverishly closing in, choking and suffocating him. He needed to find space to breathe, somewhere to find his bearings without feeling like he was being scrutinised, as if under a microscope.
He stood up, causing the blanket to fall to the floor.
"I… I have to… to… study," he stuttered, wobbling slightly, giddy from getting up so quickly.
"Maybe you should take things easy today Fumio?" suggested Sally.
"I'll be okay," he replied, suddenly heading for the door, trying his best to look normal and unflustered.
Moments later the door clicked shut.
A confused silence hung over the room. It was obvious to everyone that the boy was troubled and looked panicked. There was no sign of Fumio's usual, almost calming sense of presence as he hastily made his exit from the room, almost stumbling over the blanket in the process. Everyone had noticed the suffocating look in his eyes and that he was desperate to get out of there. They looked at each other, uncertain of what to say or do.
It was Heero who broke the silence. He could see the looks of concern on everyone's faces.
"Don't worry," he said softly, "he'll just need some space for a while," was very short, but nullifying suggestion.
"Do you not think someone should be with him?" asked Hilde.
"No, he'll be all right," was Heero's short answer again.
Quatre cleared his throat, sitting further forward. "I know we all want to comfort him and try to make him feel better, but from a psychological perspective I agree with Heero, we need to give Fumio his space for now. We can be there for him if and when he needs us around, but for right now he clearly needs time and space to process all of this.
Heero nodded to Quatre's comments, followed by the slight nodding of heads from the rest of the group as they understood the reasoning.
They continued discussing their quest to find the blueprints for another ten or so minutes before Noin eventually left the room to use the communications equipment in Quatre's office. As their plan unfolded, it seemed more likely that Noin had the best chance of success. She had some loyal connections she could contact with whom she felt were the most likely to yield results, so it was decided that she would be the one to get the quest underway.
She returned to the lounge about ten minutes later.
"How did it go?" asked Quatre.
Noin nodded positively, "It actually went a bit better than I was expecting," she replied. "I managed to get in touch with an old and trusted comrade who has always come through for me. He has some high-ranking contacts on the colonies. When I explained the situation, he seemed willing, even keen to help, and he seemed optimistic that his contacts would be prepared to assist us too. He has a few favours to call in, but he also hinted at how, in this new era of peace, there is a growing sense of need for reconciliation and cooperation on all sides. That can only be a good thing."
"That's reassuring to hear" commented Duo, "so what's next? what do we do now?"
"We just need to sit-tight, Duo," she replied, "he told me to expect a response within a day or two just as soon as he's got the word out to the right people." As she spoke, she pulled a cell phone from her pocket, pointing to it.
"That's it?" asked Duo, sounding a bit confounded, "isn't there anything else we can do in the meanwhile?"
Noin shook her head, "Trust me, this guy is the best. He's extremely good and efficient at what he does. He's never let me down. If anyone is going to help us find what we want, it's him. So when he tells you to sit tight, then the only thing you should do is actually sit-tight."
Heero looked at Noin and nodded appreciatively, "Then I guess we wait," he suggested dryly, "a few more days won't do any harm."
"But, but!" Stuttered Duo, "Surely, there must be something else we can do? We can't just sit here, not after everything that's happened?" There was fretfulness in his voice.
Duo's comments raised some eyebrows. It suddenly became evident he was more troubled about what he'd witnessed than he was letting on.
Wufei silently looked at him, wondering about his reasoning and motives. Duo had already made his feelings about the foundation very clear, so he wondered if Duo just sought retribution, but there was more to it than that. There was something in Duo's tone of voice, and a disconcerted look in his eyes that Wufei had never seen before.
He quickly realised that Duo, although trying to hide it, was genuinely distraught about Fumio, so much more than he wanted anyone to know.
Over the time he'd known him, Wufei had learned to see through Duo's mask of indomitability, that well-practised projection of strength he always hid behind like a shield, and right now, Wufei could see just how bothered Duo was about the whole thing. He could see Duo's frustration, the helplessness he felt being unable to do anything to address Fumio's situation.
At that moment, Wufei felt an unusual warmth and amity toward his fellow pilot as he glimpsed in Duo, a level of rare genuineness that deserved his respect.
Duo noticed Wufei looking at him and suddenly realised he was letting his mask slip. With a quick sigh, a sip of tea from his mug, and an ever-so-slight smile, the mask was back in place again. The look of concern was gone, buried back down into the troubled depths of his conscience from where it had first surfaced.
"Well, it's a beautiful day," suggested Quatre breaking the slightly uneasy silence in the room, "I do believe you ladies were planning a girls-day-out into town today?" he asked.
Sally, Noin and Hilde all looked at each other, "we were," replied Sally, "but under the circumstances, maybe we should…"
"Go," interrupted Heero in a light tone, "you don't need to stick around or be concerned, everything will be just fine for now."
Although nobody wanted to say anything, there seemed to be an underlying belief that what had happened to Fumio that night could happen again at any moment. Heero however, knew otherwise. If the pattern of things were to repeat themselves, Fumio would now not be due another occurrence like that for many weeks.
"You sure Heero?" asked Sally.
Heero nodded, "There's no reason for you to cancel your trip."
"Yes, go, enjoy yourselves," suggested Duo, "don't worry, we'll keep an eye on things here."
"You've got Noin's mobile communication device, so you know we can get in touch if we need to," suggested Quatre, "I'll keep mine on me too in case we decide to go out."
Sally nodded in agreement.
"And if you're really lucky, we'll bake you another cake while you're gone," joked Duo, now back to his old self again.
Simultaneously all three girls answered back, "No!... no, really, that's fine guys, really, err… please don't!"
The mood quickly lifted as the group burst into laughter.
Quatre suggested some breakfast, so the whole group left the lounge and made their way toward the kitchen.
"We should let Fumio know we're going to eat," suggested Hilde.
Wufei nodded, "I'll go," he replied, stopping, and then heading back towards the stairs. "I'm pretty sure I know where he'll be."
Wufei was confident that Fumio would be sat out under the old oak tree by the lake, the one place where he really seemed to feel at home. It was still a little chilly, and he wasn't feeling particularly warm, so he headed upstairs to his room to get a sweater before heading out there.
As Wufei emerged from his room after donning his new top, he suddenly noticed some faint sounds coming from further down the corridor. He became curious.
"Everyone is downstairs," he thought silently to himself, "and I do not believe there are staff on the premises today."
He began walking silently down the corridor to investigate.
As he got nearer, he could hear the sound of irregular, dull thud sounds. He realised it was coming from the mansion's gym that Quatre had recently installed on that floor.
Quatre inappropriately referred to it simply as 'the weight room', but this was far from being a mere room with some weights in it. A more appropriate name would have been 'Fitness Studio', but even that didn't do it justice. It was a huge room, crammed full of the most amazing and state-of-the-art high-tech fitness and gym equipment that money could buy, including a full-sized battle-ring where almost any kind of combat skills could be practised.
As he drew closer to the room, the sounds became clearer.
"Crazy, stupid, brain!" came the rather puffed out and frustrated words occurring simultaneously with the sound of heavy impacting thuds. It was Fumio.
Wufei silently approached the huge room. The door was ajar, allowing him to peer in unnoticed. The small monk was in the far corner of the room taking out his frustrations on a large white punch bag suspended from a long-reaching bracket on the wall. He was quietly cursing at himself through grit teeth, simultaneously punching and kicking furiously at the bag with anger.
"Stupid! Stupid! I'm so stupid!" came another bout of self-insults, "why am I so weak, so pathetic!" his words becoming more frustrated and angered with each impact.
Wufei remained in the corridor observing unnoticed. He could see the distress and torment written all over the boys' face. He noticed Fumio was having a hard time staying upright as his socks kept sliding on the polished wooden floor. Every time he slipped it seemed to anger him more.
Wufei silently pulled away from the door frame, leaning his back against the wall in the corridor. He pressed his head back against the wall, looking up as the same feelings of compassion and protection he had felt yesterday, returned to him again. He felt so bad for Fumio, but he realised he shouldn't interrupt him; he knew anger and frustration were always better out than in, and what better way to release such emotions than on a punching bag.
"So stupid! such a loser!" came another round of self-inflicting expressions, "why can't I be like Heero or Wufei, why can't I be strong like them?"
It was painful for Wufei to hear. He tried to imagine himself in the very predicament that Fumio was in. What would he do? How would he cope with it? He struggled to find an answer and began to realise the full extent of the frustration the boy must have been feeling.
He felt a saddened tugging on his heart. His desire to see Fumio's pain end was becoming a profound weight on his mind. A part of him badly wanted to run in there and assure him the pain would end and that everything would be all right, but the truth was, he didn't know. If Noin's plan didn't work, he was at a loss as to what might happen in the long term.
He peered back around the doorframe into the room. Fumio was tiring rapidly. His breathing heavy and rapid, but still, he continued mustering strength from deep within to strike at the punching bag, making heavy grunting and puffing noises with each, now weakening strike. The bag was swinging back and forth, and he had to get his timing right to make contact with it. Suddenly he took a lunging swing and missed, causing him to spin around and slump to the ground, landing on his butt.
Another time and place it might have been funny, but Fumio was far from laughing. His face went scarlet as he angrily scrambled back to his feet, now utterly infuriated. Wufei cringed, biting his bottom lip as he watched the distressed boy unleash hell back at the bag.
"Agghhh!" he yelled through grit teeth as he desperately pummelled his small fists and feet into it, punching and kicking with every last drop of energy he could muster, tears pouring from his eyes and running down his cheeks.
The tugging pangs Wufei could feel in his heart were growing. He could feel a protective instinct building within that was urging him to go to Fumio, to do something, anything, to just be there for him, to try to help stop the hurt; but he knew he couldn't, he mustn't interfere, at least not yet. Fumio had to deal with this, to face up to it in his own way. Trying to protect him from it would not help.
He continued to observe the traumatised boy, feeling helpless. Fumio was exhausted, trembling with a lack of energy, but still, he continued to launch into the bag, simultaneously cursing and sobbing with each impact.
Suddenly Wufei noticed red smear marks appearing on the white material of the punching bag. He focused on Fumio's right forearm and realised that the large bandage had become soaked with blood.
"Damn!" he thought silently to himself, "he's re-opened his wound."
The need to act suddenly took on a new urgency. Wufei stood hesitantly in the doorway while he quickly debated in his mind whether he was doing the right thing by stepping in and intervening. Moments later he hurried into the room toward the boy.
Fumio was still punching and cursing relentlessly at the bag, although it was becoming more and more difficult to muster the energy to lash out. What had been two or three punches or kicks every second, had now reduced down to one weakened punch every four or five seconds between fighting to catch his breath.
His whole body was stinging, his muscles aching and burning, begging him to stop. The small cuts and scratches over his face, arms and body were soaked in sweat causing an inflamed sensation all over his flesh. The blood from his bandaged wound was now running onto his hand causing the punching bag to become a bloodied mess. Despite his near-exhaustion, he still continued battling the frustrations tearing and raging within his mind.
Wufei approached quickly and placed himself between Fumio and the punching bag. He reached out and gripped the traumatised boy firmly by the upper arms.
"Fumio, calm down," he urged, "you're damaging yourself!"
At first, Fumio seemed not to see Wufei; he tried shrugging off his hold, keeping his eyes and attention firmly fixed on the bag, desperate to take another swing at it.
Wufei tightened his grip, "Fumio!" he barked more firmly, "At ease soldier! Stand down! That's an order!"
Suddenly Fumio broke from his focused concentration and looked up at the Shenlong pilot as if waking from a trance. He looked a little startled.
Wufei could see the anguished, traumatised look in the youth's tearful eyes. He squeezed his grip on Fumio's arms again, "It's okay, just calm down," he said in a more reassuring tone, "just get your breath back."
Fumio was still gasping for breath, sobbing and trembling with a lack of strength.
He slowly crouched down until he was sat cross-legged on the floor, his head tiredly slumped forward with his chin pressed onto his chest.
Wufei joined him and sat closely cross-legged on the floor opposite, their knees touching.
He could see Fumio's trembling muscles as the boy quietly sniffed.
Wufei felt so bad for him, he wanted to do whatever he could to help ease Fumio's suffering, but he wasn't sure what he could do.
"That's it, just get your breath back," he encouraged again in a gentler tone, "everything is going to be alright, just let yourself calm down."
They sat there for a minute or two. Fumio continued to quietly sob and sniff, while his breathing slowed down until eventually, he calmed to just a numb, despondent silence.
"What can I do to help you through this, Fumio?" he asked calmly.
Fumio shrugged and shook his head, not having an answer. He gave another sniff, "You must think I'm so pathetic," he eventually whispered in a subdued, croaky voice, still with his head slumped down.
Wufei gently put his fingers under Fumio's chin, lifting his head. "Look at me," he urged in a whispered voice.
Fumio slowly looked up at Wufei; his expression sad and wounded.
"I would never think that of you, Fumio-chan," said Wufei in a gentle, reassuring voice, "and neither would anyone else. In fact, right now I think you are the bravest young man I have ever met."
Fumio seemed a little surprised at Wufei's comments and for a moment felt slightly encouraged, but then he looked down again and sighed. The frustration he had been feeling was subsiding but had left in its wake an emotional numbness.
Wufei reached up and gently grasped the sides of Fumio's face in his hands, leaning forward, touching their foreheads together in a gesture of affection and caring.
"This thing, Fumio, that's making this happen to you, have faith in Heero," he whispered, "I've never seen him more determined to resolve an issue. You just need to hang-in-there a while longer, you are in good hands, and I have no doubt this will all be resolved soon."
He felt Fumio subtlety nod, "Thank you Wufei-san," came the quiet, appreciative reply.
"Everything's going to be alright, you'll see," added Wufei.
They stayed in the comforting embrace for a while, both happy to further-nurture the strong closeness and bond that had grown between them over the past couple of days.
I don't want to tell you what to do, but you really should eat something Fumio-chan; it'll help get your strength back and make you feel better," suggested Wufei, sensing Fumio's fatigue. "What do you say, you get cleaned up, we'll get Sally to take a look at that arm again, then we'll have ourselves a nice hearty breakfast? Deal?"
Fumio nodded gently, "Okay, deal," was the subdued reply.
Wufei nodded and was about stand up when Fumio suddenly reached across and stopped him, gripping his forearm.
"Wufei-san?" he asked quietly.
"What is it?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"I know this sounds silly, but," Fumio was hesitant and slow in his question, "Please, don't leave me on my own today?"
The monk's words caused a rush of immense sadness to well up in Wufei. He had to make quite an effort to stop himself from welling-up.
"How can this be?" he thought to himself silently, "how can the kid have the confidence to lead a deadly samurai ritual on one day, yet become afraid of being left on his own the next?" The ache within his heart exploded. "Fumio, come here," he gasped and in a purely instinctual act, Wufei found himself reaching out his arms and wrapping them around the boy in a firm and consoling hug.
Fumio immediately returned the welcome and sincere embrace, hugging him back tightly.
"Of course I'll do that for you," Wufei reassured him gently, in a whisper, the sadness obvious in his voice, "and no Fumio, it's not silly, not silly at all."