So nobody likes being left on a cliff hanger. And I've decided to take pity on you guys. Also the gummy bears and the reviews inspired me to finish this chapter for you guys. (: Thanks for the reviews and keep them coming (: I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.
Leaning back against the closed door with a green clipboard in hand, Shizuru watches me. Our gaze meets and holds. We share this moment of silence as though communing everything we want or should have said. I am unsure. Is what hangs in the air, regret? Love? Or a sort of distancing that two strangers that somehow know each other share?
She takes a step forward, and almost instinctively, I flinch. She must have noticed it because her forward advance stops. Instead she meanders over to my bed and sits down. We are separated by a mere few feet.
The awkward silence is broken by her first. "How are you doing?"
"Hey," I gave her a weak smile. "Urm..I'm, you know, great. Fine." I cannot be angry, I cannot shout at her. With her this near to me, the icy wall around me that keeps people out is crumbling.
Her hand stretches out for me. I look away. But she cups her fingers gently around me chin, and turns me such that I'm looking into those fiery eyes of hers.
"You've not been sleeping," Shizuru stated.
"It's no big deal." Reaching down, I take the piece of plastic clipboard out of her hands, and dash my signature over the blank space of the paper where my name is written next to it in neat capital letters. "Here. It's done." I reach into my wallet and flash her my student card.
Shizuru hums a sound of agreement as her hand drops from my chin to reclaim the clipboard. "Thanks."
I have given her every excuse to leave now. But she doesn't move. After a moment, "So what did you mean about me and Margeurite-san?"
"Oh." I've dug my own hole here. You see, sometimes being a person who doesn't really have self- control over the words that tumble out of your mouth is really a bad thing. Saying what's on your mind is a bad thing. I stare into the distance, past Shizuru. I hope she decides the silence is awkward and comes up with a topic changer. Instead, she seems content to wait for me to answer.
I've never been good with awkward silence, so I hurry to layer it over. "I mean, you know. I see you with her. Having breakfast, that is. In the mornings, and I'm glad you like her. She's nice. Really nice. She makes a good friend, and uh maybe a good girlfriend. And I'm good with it." I drummed my fingers against the table nervously.
Shizuru frowns for a moment before a gleam enters her eyes. "So you wouldn't mind if I got together with her."
I am glad that I've been practicing how to smooth out that frown of mine into a smile. Because I use it now. "I would be happy for you. Really. You know…Happy." I force my eyes to meet her, and choke up as must honesty as I can into those insincere eyes of mine.
"Ara…" Shizuru tapped a finger on the table. "That's really nice to know."
She hums thoughtfully to herself. So much so that for that moment, i believe that she's really considering my words and her relationship with Tomoe. Because of that, her next words surprises me.
"But I wouldn't," Shizuru says carefully.
It's wrong. But the sense of relief that flushes through me is undeniable. "You wouldn't? I mean why? She's nice."
"Because my heart only has space for one."
"Oh…" I look away. At the ceiling. At the pencil holder that has somehow captured my attention.
"It's not fair. You're always running," Shizuru states suddenly.
"I'm sorry. What do you mean?"
"I said, you're always running. You run hot and cold. I don't understand you. Sometimes, you're near me, and I can feel your presence and not just your heart, but your entire being focused on me. I feel the love and all the words you never say—"
"I…"
"Don't. Let me finish. I get it. You're afraid of love. You're afraid of being hurt. But more than that, you're terrified of hurting me. Of hurting people. But you don't get to decide that. You don't get to choose that. I get to determine if I want to be hurt by you. I get to decide that it's worth it. Not you. So you can't cart me off onto some other girl you think is nice. And then hole yourself up in the corner of your room and pretend you're good. Because I can't stop worrying about you, especially when you're not all right."
"I'm fine." I protest.
"You're not. How much sleep have you gotten over the past few days?" In a swift movement, she grabs my right arm, and shoves the sleeve of my shirt up. Seeing nothing, she pulls me in, and swivels the chair around. I barely have time to counter her moves, when her hand is on my left arm this time, and this time when she pushes the shirt up, her eyes track quickly over the smattering of red cuts and a few healing ones. "You call this all right?"
I drag my arm out of her grasp and tug my sleeve back over to hide the cuts that have accumulated over the weeks. "You see. That's the problem. You're upset."
"Yes, I am."
"You don't get to be upset about this!"
"Why not?" This time her voice is dangerously quiet.
"Because it doesn't hurt me. I've told you again and again. It doesn't hurt me. Do you want me to prove it to you?" I grab the penknife in my pencil holder and slide the blade out. I underestimate her quickness because before I can bring it down Shizuru twists my right wrist. The twinge of pain spikes up my hand, and involuntarily I release the blade. It clatters onto the parquet floor.
"So you don't feel the pain. I accept that. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt you," Shizuru says through gritted teach.
"Twisting my wrist hurts more," I complain.
"Natsuki." The way she says my name, brooks no argument.
"Fine, it hurts me. You're going to give me some crap about it being my body and how harming it has got to be like the world's greatest sin next to murder or something. I mean, sure you can harp on and on about it, but I don't feel it. It doesn't affect me, so you shouldn't let it affect you. But then you're going to say, you love me, and somehow loving me means you get affected by it" I say sourly. "So, stop loving me. And you won't be affected by it," I comment offhandedly.
"No. I'm not. I'm not even asking you to stop cutting."
"Huh? You're not?" I asked surprised.
"I may not understand it. But I know it means a lot to you. I would want you to stop, but I'm not asking you to," Shizuru says quietly.
"But then…You'll always be hurt by it," I whispered.
"That's my choice remember."
"Shizuru. You don't want me. I'm a mess." I sigh. "When I was born, my Dad, he believed and had all these hopeful wishes for me. I didn't meet a single one. I used to get locked up in this room, with books, and books and papers that I had to complete. I had more homework than any kid in my class when I was five. If the quality wasn't good, he would get angry. And they had a happy marriage. My mum and my dad, but when I came in, he started to get angry. He started to feel like I undermined his power. Because he's this great researcher at work and people brag about their children winning the spelling Bee, and I was that one child, who let him down, who couldn't pass a spelling test or even ace a single mathematic exam. And my mum, she used to be happy. Now she has to lie to me about being happy. Can you believe that?" I took a deep breath before carrying on.
"And I've got a half-sister. Her name is Alyssa, and my Dad, he adores her. She's smart like IQ over 140 kind of smart. She dresses up like a lady and has the voice of an angel. She's everything that he wanted of me. So he spends more time with his mistress than my mum. You know what he tells me. He tells me that all great men leave behind a legacy. And his legacy is her, not me. My mother has to put up with him being with his mistress all the time. Because of me. Because if I was smarter, if I was better, if I was what he wanted ME to be, he would have stayed with my mum instead. He wouldn't have wandered off to find some other woman. He wouldn't have told my mum, her eggs were lousy, and they screwed up my genetics. I grew up knowing exactly precisely how imperfect and worthless I am. And guess what? He's right. I am pathetic, I am lousy. The only good thing that I can ever do would be to commit suicide, so that I won't burden the people around me. I self-harm, and I feel nothing. But you, you're so hurt by it. I can't do that to you. I can't keep hurting you. Do you get me?" I look up expecting tears, or pity. But I see a soft sort of compassion in her eyes that is not condescending.
"You have a half-sister?" Shizuru asked.
"Yes, I do."
"You never mentioned her to me before."
"It's certainly not my favorite topic of my lifetime."
"So you're pathetic, and lousy, and you hurt me. So I should get a new girlfriend. Someone maybe with a little less sordid history and has a life that is filled with rainbows and puppies and flowers?"
"If you put it that way. Yes."
"Why do you self-harm?"
"Because it's how I live with myself. Because I hate myself, and I feel as though if I can just destroy this body I inhabit, I'll become better; more perfect."
"Can you stop cutting? If you try that is," Shizuru asks cautiously.
"I…I don't know. It's difficult. I want to destroy something. But I don't want to hurt anybody. So I can only destroy myself. Because it doesn't hurt me."
"So you hate yourself?"
I exhale forcefully. "Maybe."
"Then I'll love you enough for two people." Shizuru pulled me in for a hug.
"Shizuru," I push against her shoulders. "You're not listening to me. Let me go and listen."
"I have," she huffs out in a childish voice. "I've listened to it all. Natsuki thinks she's pathetic and worthless and does nothing but bring hurt to me. Natsuki has a Dad who has an ego bigger than an elevator door, and Natsuki thinks Marguerite-san is excellent for me because she's…nice." Shizuru laughs. "Nice," she repeats. "God, Natsuki, you crack me up sometimes. Nice? Really? That's the best compliment you could come up with? Marguerite-san is brilliant, she's rather caring. She offered to take care of Natsuki for me. She has excellent taste in tea. She is well mannered, alittle elitist though but she possesses a very high standard of quality of work."
Jealousy fills me in that heartbeat. "Told you, she's nice. Well maybe, nice and good. Good for you, Shizuru. Date her. She's so much better."
"Ara…Is Natsuki jealous?"
"I'm not!" I retort indignantly.
"But you see. I know this other person. She's very flawed. She's not brilliant when it comes to school work, but she's smart where it counts. She hates tea. She is far from well mannered, she's crude and sometimes even vulgar. She's not elitist at all and she cares about her friends. And while she doesn't possess a very high standard of quality or work, she possesses an extremely high standard of love. To her love, means giving her very best. And if she is incapable of it, she rather someone else give it to me. Sometimes, she's a coward when it comes to accepting love. But she's incredibly brave when it comes to giving love. She would rather hurt herself, than hurt others. She self-harms because all that anger and injustice that people have done to her, she internalizes and multiplies it back upon herself. So instead of directing that anger at the people in her life who have hurt her, she directs it at herself. I don't think it's the smartest thing to do, but I love her. I love her for who she is. Pathetic, lousy, brave, caring, rude and all of it."
My eyes are filled with tears. "Hey," I whisper. I lean forward and rest my head against her chest. I hear each precise beat of her heart. I feel her warmth. Not just the physical warmth that surrounds me as her arms hold me close to her. But the warmth of her love. "I hate that I love you, you know that?"
She chuckles, as she strokes my midnight blue hair. "I know. You hate me. But you still love me even when you hate me. That's saying a lot."
"Maybe. Maybe."
We untangle ourselves and sit on the bed, separated this time only by a few centimeters. Shizuru takes my left hand gently, and rolls back the sleeve. Leaning forward, she kisses the cuts that line my upper arm. "I wish my Natsuki wouldn't hurt herself so much. Even if she doesn't feel the hurt," Shizuru said wirily. "You've got to remember, you know."
"Remember?" I echo.
"Remember that I'm loving you enough for two. And you need to learn to let yourself be loved. Because it doesn't matter how much I love you Natsuki. If you can't accept that love, it's pointless." Shizuru unfolds her legs and gets up. She walks over to my desk, bends down and picks up the yellow acrylic penknife. She stares at it for a moment pensively before sliding the blade back in place and tucking it into my pen holder. "And one day Natsuki, I'll be the one to throw this away for you. But I won't do it, when you aren't looking. When I do it, you'll know it and you'll let me. Remember that too."