Windows of the Soul: Part Twenty-One

As ever(?!?), thanks for the kind reviews. And thoughts on words, as well. If they don't clearly mean one thing, it can be troubling. People can hide in the ambiguities between different shades of meaning, and cling to the views they expect or want.

Characters do that too, but that totally has nothing to do with authors or anything. Authors just dictate for the muses, yep-yep. Not their fault at all...

When I peeked through the door, she really was asleep. Hideko looked up and nodded briefly at me. I sighed a little, went to my room, and pulled out that damn timetable she'd given me. Today began with Biology, joy of joys. I sifted through my bag, trying to find my textbook.

Shizuru's swords rested uneasily against the wall, and weighed heavily on my mind. She's given me another unpleasant recollection to worry about. But in any case, they were a little worrying in themselves. I know what they can do, in a way normal people can't. That wasn't very important, though.

Once I finally found the damn book, I sat on my futon, flipping to the bookmarked page and beginning to read. It was something about muscles and their chemical processes.

How tedious. Muscles just work, and I'm not going to become a biochemist.

She'd say something sarky, but it's not like I'm stupid, or don't understand these things. I'm just a conscientious objector from academia, as it really is mostly useless. If I compare it to the reality that supports our world, an unkind one full of unkind people, I'd say that knowledge of muscle chemistry really is pointless. Now, knowing how to move, twist and strike to disable someone else, that's useful. So is knowing how to shoot, or hack, or barter. But you can't teach those things if you want to retain pretence of civilisation. You must struggle and aspire to a peaceful, pleasant world even if reality is crueller, if you are to remain human. We are to believe in that, and those who cannot believe any more should learn for themselves what they need to be crueller. That's what she said, when I talked to her about it, before that time. If I asked her now, would her answer change, I wonder?

And for that girl who has always followed the way of the sword, which did she always see herself as? A believer, or a cruel one?

I reached the bottom of the page, then noticed that I hadn't taken in the last three paragraphs at all. Rolling my eyes, I started again from there. Shizuru would undoubtedly laugh at me, and that would just distract me more. She has a very distracting laugh.

If I focus and think, I can see this page in her words and her voice, something that helps. She's actually pretty good at teaching, which surprised me a little. Well, perhaps a good teacher for me, who can keep up with her. I'm not sure how good she'd be with a more ordinary person, considering she takes her intelligence for granted and keeps on making cryptic remarks that even I can barely follow. Always assuming that if she goes at her own pace the world will catch up eventually. Such a casual attitude. But she understands everything, of course, and she can state things clearly and concisely. Not even Shizuru could make something complex and poetic about lactic acid, I guess. On the contrary, the fact that she has patience without a love of the subject means I can get through the material damn fast to begin with. I don't need anything more complicated than that. But trying to work without her is strange. Perhaps she's been bad for me, in that respect. I won't be so lucky any more.

This time, I managed to finish the page. If I were being strict, I'd take notes at this point. Undoubtedly she'd insist on that, but I find it far too boring for words. With that kind of logic in mind, I turned the page and started distastefully at it. Yep, those muscle fibres were really growing on me… or not, as the case may be. Sighing, I turned and flopped forwards, putting my book on the pillow and wrapping the blanket roughly about me. Perhaps that would help.

It didn't, but at least it made me feel a little more comfortable.

The sound of covers shifting, a weak cough, and then silence again. I scowled. These walls are just too damn thin, however I look at it. But it reminded me of a few things that were less than completely useful for the purposes my studying and concentration. I drew the blankets about my ears irritably, becoming a caterpillar. That was warm on a warm day, and not particularly easy on the arms. It just felt like a large space without that, though. Bigger than my apartment bedroom, at least, and less cluttered. People cleaned everything up before I could fill it with a good, wholesome mess, as well. Perhaps I'm just used to an enclosed, untidy space, but doesn't that give a cold, unfriendly feeling? It doesn't feel like your room if you can't look after it, or not, yourself and freely. Though as a guest, I shouldn't complain, but Shizuru's room is the same. Painfully precise. She probably likes that, though. I'm sure you get used to it after a while, and take it for granted. I wonder what her room would look like, if she ever lived without servants for a few weeks? I think I'd like to see that. At least I've grown used to damage control, even if I can't live like Mai. I don't have anyone to look after, unlike her, has always been the excuse I kept in my head. Even before that, too, I told Shizuru that it was because there was no one but me. And she would always smile, and say that if that's the case, I should count her for it. Just another piece of clever wordplay from her, who always teased me, is what I thought, while I tidied up if I knew she was coming round. She never slept over, though, something that suited both of us in various ways. We were always a little distant, even as close, and especially distant with the truth.

None of which has the slightest thing to do with my biology homework, of course. I sighed, rubbing my forehead tiredly. This was due to lack of sleep, absolutely. You couldn't concentrate under those conditions.

The princess shifted again in her uncertain sleep. Perhaps a pea had slipped into her futon.

I gave in to temptation, closing my textbook and sighing. Partly at her, and partly in self-reproach, myself. But it's really her fault if she's made me so damn used to her help. With that thought, I extracted myself and stood, heading for her room again. Hideko looked up when I opened the door. "Hey," I said awkwardly.

She just nodded again. No doubt she doesn't want to disturb the princess' sleep.

"If want a break, I'll cover for you," I said quietly. "Sitting there all day would be a pain, right?"

Hideko looked up at me, frowning for a moment. Then she nodded. "Very well." She stood and walked past me, closing the door behind her.

I walked forwards slightly, looking down at a sleeping Shizuru. She really did look sickly, her cheeks flushed unpleasantly and her bow beaded slightly with sweat. If it's her, being anything but pale is a genuine cause for concern. Even so, her sleeping face would bring plenty of princes running to rescue her. And even in this state, too, she'd blow them off, and do it herself, or else make friends with the dragon. That's the kind of person she is, not someone who collects many debts or relishes thank-yous. She'd kiss and wake a sleeping princess, though, if she was given the chance. That's my bad luck. I've always found it hilarious that we can be so casual about such fairy-tale behaviour, considering how creepy it is in actual life. Apart from that, though, she's similar to me. We'd be the third prince, not the prize, or failing that we'd win with the hands given to us without apologising to convention. But her sleeping face makes her an object, and I don't like that, after all. I can't tell her these things and watch her twist my words.

I tried sitting on seiza, gave up, and crossed my legs. She mumbled inarticulately and shifted her head again, thick and tangled brown hair falling over her eyes. I moved to brush her locks aside, then stopped myself. I didn't want to wake her, after all. Best to leave things be.

Her face was surprisingly close, and surprisingly vulnerable when her eyes are closed and her piercing stare absent. When she's awake, you are only aware of her gaze. It's active, roving over your face, the surroundings, away from you, and you're never quite sure what exactly it is she is seeing with those eyes. You focus on those eyes, of course. But like this, she can't ward me by such a convenient method. Of course, this isn't the first time I've seen her asleep. But it isn't something I see often, either. She doesn't relax, though she allows me to relax, and always kept herself upright around me. So there is a novelty in it.

Her eyelashes are long. I wouldn't be surprised, if you were to tell me that, but I hadn't noticed it before either. Small details come into focus when there is nothing else to focus upon.

She really does appear delicate and beautiful, like this. It's a pretty illusion, of course. Shizuru is certainly beautiful, but if she takes you seriously all you're really allowed to see is her eyes. And she isn't delicate in any sense of the term, though that is a pretty illusion I sustained for over a year. I'd hit upon it a little earlier when thinking about fairy tales, but Shizuru really isn't someone so simple that she can be described as a sleeping beauty. Even if she's a beauty asleep, she's still Shizuru. A complex and troubling person, who embodies a lot of contradictions. In herself, and in me. It's hard for me to reconcile my own conflicting desires, forget easing her own turbulent soul. The more she's saddened, the more she smiles. The more she loves, the more she hurts. So she isn't someone she can be understood. I have to bear all those things in mind, when I look upon her as she is now. It's uncertainly strange, to see her so weak and vulnerable and human. Even I put her somewhere separate in my head, a strange person who had strangely made friends with me despite the fact that she was so gentle and popular. Never showing explicit weakness. I suppose, in a way, this is a decent metaphor for how far she's fallen. But I don't have time for that.

Slight motions are emphasised and important. Even asleep, that characteristic, the fact that I always focus on her and her alone, hasn't changed. She demands that kind of attention, because I can't deal with her sloppily. In the same way the devil is always in the detail with Yamada and his kind, to discover anything about Shizuru you have to see only her. I learned that quickly. But it's also the kind of attention she demands for her own sake, implicitly, because she has that kind of mesmerising quality. The way she hugs the covers to her, her half-frown, her laden breath all strike me. It's cute and morbid to say that, but it doesn't make me happy to see her so lifeless, either. But I wonder whether this is what she wanted, to suffer like this. For the girl she has become if not the girl I knew before, that wouldn't be surprising. And I can understand those feelings, though they don't make me happy either. If I look upon her, it questions the matter of blame at all. The Carnival was too distant and celestial, and yet too real. Right or wrong has nothing to do with my emotions and her own, and if they fall one way or the other I can't judge that. She makes me feel uncertain, something I have always despised. Why can't she just smile sincerely and put me at ease?

I know her many reasons, which just makes it more frustrating.

That's what I receive, if I look upon her face. A slowly settling, painful melancholy that falls like snow. And gentle, overflowing feelings, my instinct to protect that I've always held for her. I can't fear her where she can hardly move. I'm a rational person, after all. And even if it's saddening, I can't not look. That's something I receive, just from watching her with my eyes. There's so much owed, so much to be gained, and so much lost. All of those reflections rise in me, and I know that what must be is not what is; though I don't exactly know when or how we can find a better future. Everything's tangled up, and altogether it's paralysing. But it's welcome, as well, because it almost feels warm, and the dream of everyone everywhere is really only lazy. To be warm, and comfortable, and inert, without needing to do anything in particular. For me, at least, I've dreamt of that. A world where I don't have to struggle so violently and for so long, with every good thing turned to ash by twisting circumstance. We have that in a common, a mournful dirge-bond, a sad and difficult fate that means we can't live as we please, but as we must. That may even be what attracted her to me in the first place.

And if I reach out, I can touch her face. Her cheek is warm and fevered. There's a trembling feeling that comes from that, the attraction of danger. I can understand, like that. It is easy, like this. When your own feelings are dangerous and terrifying, your loved one all-too alive and in an obscure way terrifying, it wouldn't be hard to do. There's a safety in it, an illusion that it wouldn't be a big deal, and that it wouldn't change anything. So easy, after all, to kiss Shizuru's lips while she slept and experience that sensation. How would it make me feel? Can I stand it? Would I enjoy it? What exactly is she to me, if I ask myself sincerely? Just a test. Nothing complicated or hard to do, an easy way of finding out. Her cheeks are so warm, her lips read and close, it's almost a natural thing. And if it's just this, what follows after would not be changed.

She probably thought things like that, back then. I let go of her face and turned away, cradling my hand on my lap and trying not to miss the sensation of her warmth against my skin.

The last time I felt that was this morning, when she was against me, the smell of her hair in my face, my arms around her and her warmth wrapping me. A protective feeling made pure by what you receive in return. Momentary peace. That was an overwhelming experience, in a way quite detached from everyday embarrassment and shame. If I look on her now, I wonder what it would be like to experience that closeness again. That kind of intimacy is a powerful thing, perhaps because I'm already struggling to be close to her. Even if our understanding and our words don't change, this allows me to feel a little nearer to my goal. Another beautiful illusion. It would be too cruel to try and make a habit of this, which would tempt and trouble Shizuru. So my foggy and ambiguous feelings remain, wrapping me in their own blanket, while she sleeps with murmurs and sweat. What does she see in her dreams?

When I wake, she is there. That is strange in itself, and the mark of a strange world. An ironic way to realise a hazy dream of mine, I suppose. "Good morning," I murmured quietly.

She must have been thinking about something, because she looked surprised. Her face is always so open, and so easy to read. "Morning," she replied uncertainly, giving me a worried and slightly guilty look.

"What time-" I coughed forcefully, clearing my throat, and pushed myself up. My head swam but I ignored it. "What time is it?"

"Hey, don't move," Natsuki warned, pushing my shoulder. To my shame, I couldn't offer any resistance, falling back again. "You shouldn't push yourself."

"You shouldn't stay near me," I replied weakly, glancing up at her. My hair was tangled, so I pushed it out of my eyes. "I don't want to give you whatever it is I have."

"If you mean stubborn idiocy, I have plenty of my own, thanks," Natsuki replied seriously. "But you should conscientiously lie there and do nothing. Sick people aren't allowed to complain about those arrangements."

I smiled a little, trying to clear my aching head. "Even so." I felt slow, a feeling I despise. I live on my fast mind and sickness checks that and weakens me in more ways than I like. If that's the case, it may be better not to speak at all, after all. But I can't afford to think in that way, never trusting the thoughts I could put into words.

"Well, better me than that maid of yours," Natsuki replied bluntly. "I have a stronger constitution. You aren't allowed to worry about anyone but yourself, either. I'm sure I said that earlier."

I chuckled softly, a sound that became a cough. I forced it down, clamping my mouth shut and turning my head away in embarrassment. "I suppose so."

"Honestly, you're always giving me trouble," Natsuki said, mock righteous. "My second day here, and you end up like this? You seriously have no sense of timing. Getting sick, after all these years… if this had happened at school, you'd get a break from work and attention from all those fangirls."

"I'm sorry."

Natsuki sniffed haughtily. "Idiot. Apologise by getting better quickly."

"I'll bear that in mind. But this certainly feels like the opposite of the usual circumstance." I chuckled uneasily, ignoring my itchy throat as best I could. "Remember when you came back with a broken arm one day?"

"Yeah," Natsuki said uneasily. "That was a while ago…"

"You were very stubborn," I said. My fingers grasped the pillow and twisted it slightly. "Until you'd reached the council room, you didn't say a word. But you cried from the pain, then. Even though I was sad you were in pain… I was a little happy, as well, to be trusted with your tears."

I didn't know, and don't know, why I spoke of that. Clinging to happy memories, I suppose. As if any meaning remained from those days. I could have no delusion, when exhausted pain was oppressing me so heavily.

"Yeah, well, it hurt," Natsuki said slowly. "It's okay to cry if something hurts. That's why you're more stubborn than me."

I smiled, perhaps just a little stubbornly, knowing she couldn't see my face. "You never did tell me how you got that injury."

"Well, it was a long time ago. I suppose you can guess, anyway."

"Of course. Even at the time." I closed my eyes, taking a breath. "You're right, of course. That was a long time ago."

"You saved me, though. I didn't want to go to a hospital with that kind of injury, after all. Questions would have been asked. But where did you learn to set an arm anyway?" Natsuki laughed. "At that time, I really did think… this girl can do everything."

"It was a clean break, so even I didn't have problems with it. Whoever that person was, they were good."

"That doesn't answer my question, you know," Natsuki replied. She was probably pouting at the back of my neck. She had that kind of tone, and I could see her face clearly in my mind. Too many years have tied her words and face together in my mind, part of the whole that is her that I see.

"I went on a course, once. I considered being a doctor, when I was about fourteen. I thought it would be an admirable thing, to help people, and other such romantic imaginings." I smiled weakly, taking another breath. My voice was breaking again, so I coughed more discreetly.

"A doctor, huh? I can see that," Natsuki remarked. "You have the personality, not to mention the brains."

"Otou-sama told me, that year," I recounted loosely. "A doctor doesn't earn enough. Even a specialist. And the hours are too long, and the training and advancement too slow. His sole child and heir should aspire to weightier matters."

"Really?" Natsuki asked. "What a pain. It's your life, isn't it?"

I touched my forehead gently, cursing the hazy pain. "What time is it?"

"Ten twenty-five," Natsuki replied, after a moment. "Still pretty early. Oh, someone brought you some breakfast that should be easy to eat." She looked around. "If you'd like. Now where did I put it…"

"It's fine," I replied flatly.

"Oh. Fair enough." Now her head would tilt and she'd look at me a little uncertainly. "Are you still tired? I should probably stop talking."

"Why did you come?" I asked, closing my eyes a little to rest them.

"Because I was worrying about you, idiot," Natsuki said. "Is there a problem with that?"

I took a deep breath, tensing my arms. "That's not what I meant."

"Then…" Her face would harden, at this point, and her jaw would set. "My answer's still the same."

I pushed myself up, turning with my hair falling about me and drawing the covers over my legs. As I'd thought, those emerald eyes were narrowed. "That's commendable, but you aren't supposed to see this. My trust is weaker than yours, after all… but I've always been a weak person."

"If you say it like that, I can't believe it," Natsuki replied steadily. "Even as you are now, you can still use that scary voice at abrupt moments. But you can't fool anyone like this, when it's so obvious you're fighting even to move and stay straight."

"You sure don't hold back, even against someone in that state," I replied coolly. I took another breath, pausing, then continued. "In any case, I know. I can't just laugh and smile this one off, right?"

"That's probably true," Natsuki said, more quietly than before.

"And you didn't come to this room to talk about the past, either," I remarked. "There's probably a lot you want to know."

"Well, that's also true," Natsuki said guardedly. "But it'll keep. You should rest for now."

She reached out again, but this time I caught her wrist with my hand. My grip was weak, but she withdrew her hand silently. "I've rested enough," I replied. "It's fine, isn't it?"

"You aren't allowed to talk seriously right now," Natsuki replied. "So go back to sleep."

"Is that so?" I asked, turning my head and looking at the wall opposite. "Well, I am rested. I don't sleep very well, any more. Even like this, being awake is better than…" I stopped abruptly, coughing violently. Despite myself, I was bent double and retching before it stopped.

"That's enough, Shizuru," Natsuki said worriedly. "Don't talk."

"Always so kind," I said, looking sidelong at her. "That's a little tiring for me. I miss the days when you hated me, in part and in a strange way. If you can keep lying with that smile, even I might believe that you've forgiven me."

"What are you talking about?" Natsuki demanded hotly. "You aren't in any condition to say smart things."

"Well, even talking like this is a little pointless, I'll admit," I replied, looking away again. "It's the simple fact that you already know all the answers you're looking for. But I suppose, for both of us, it is necessary for me to say it. Necessary to go through that humiliation, which is punishment in itself."

Natsuki gritted her teeth. "You know, you're doing it again. Twisting things out of sense and deciding things on your own. I don't want to punish or humiliate you, It isn't necessary, and right now you should shut up and go to sleep like a good girl. Got it?"

"You won't stop me, though," I observed. "You do want to know…" I coughed again, clearing my throat. "Well, it all comes down to aragami."

"Aragami?"

"I'm pursued by the spirits of the dead, those I killed in anger," I remarked casually. "They are numerous and very angry, vengeful beings who will never forgive me, no matter how much I repent." I glanced at her face, and burst out laughing. That became a coughing fit that shook my whole body. Eventually, I managed to bring my breathing back under control. "Of course, I don't believe that in a literal sense. Or, even if that's so, I can't do anything about it. But it is a decent metaphor for those things. Memories, dark dreams and regrets."

"Even if they're dead," Natsuki began, frowning at me.

"I can't do anything?" I asked.

She nodded. "Beating yourself help is just pointless and stupid. If you lived, live. That's all anyone expects of you."

"Well, I've always had high expectations of myself," I shot back. "And I am different from you, in terms of what I have done. The dead alone are not the total of my sin. Altogether it's an impossible debt that my one life cannot repay. That thought alone, I suppose," I sighed, closing my eyes. "Kept me alive."

"Shizuru," Natsuki said. She'd be staring at me. Perhaps with a frightened face, or a disgusted one. I won't look and can't tell.

"Have you ever felt it?" I asked, glancing at her. "Regrets, endless regrets… a life so twisted and wrong you regret even being born, even being… and then, a strange lust for peace. The desire to," I cut myself off abruptly, turning away. My fingernails dug into the skin of my palms. "Such a destructive feeling. If it is you, it isn't just a rhetorical question."

"Yeah," Natsuki said, voice soft and cold. "I've felt it. Absolute despair."

"Probably, me," I remarked evenly. Now that image will also haunt my dreams, where it belongs. I should at least know everything I have done. "Then you'll understand. I didn't do it, though. My fear, and the weight of everyone's expectations, the expectations of the dead, and you. If it is a kind person like you, you might have taken that upon yourself. I did not want to hurt you in that, too."

"Well, you were right in that," Natsuki replied. To her credit, she didn't flinch. That girl has such strength. "You aren't allowed to do anything like that. It doesn't solve anything, and hurts too many people."

"You should just let me talk," I replied evenly.

Natsuki watched me, making no reply.

"So I've struggled, with that weight. Without believing in redemption, uncertain of repentance, oppressed by the knowledge that this is my unchanging self, but I've tried to have faith in something. Anything." My voice was flat, and my eyes focused into an interminable distance. "There's a purity, in water. It washes things clean. That is what I was taught to believe. If you do that in an earnest and sincere way, perhaps your stains can be purged painlessly."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Naturally, no. In my heart. Like everything else, I was just going through the motions and pretence while lying without shame. Worse, in that I was mainly lying to myself this time around. That's the degree to which I have fallen." I coughed again, weakly, but managed to control myself. "More than that, though, I did it because it damaged me. Just self-harm, to gratify my incestuous self-hate. I have become a broken, disgusting person. I don't have any illusions about that."

"I don't get it," Natsuki said, low and tired. "Why? Why are you the one who hates everything? If this world was fair, I'd be the one to do that. So why?"

"I'm sorry to trouble you," I replied, only half ironically.

She bit her lip and glared at me. "Well, I told you, didn't I?" she demanded, her hands closing around my right wrist. I turned my head away, feeling her gaze upon me. "Sick people aren't allowed to talk like that. You can't care about anyone but yourself until you can really smile again, right?"

"Now that's a story that didn't have a happy ending," I murmured.

Natsuki got up, standing at the foot of the bed. "Well, I'll bear it," she snapped. I turned my head again, but her knees buckled, hitting the futon, and her hands grabbed my shoulders, pushing my over. "Your pain, your sadness, your regrets, all your sins… lay them on me, and I'll bear them!" she said hotly, shaking me violently. "You aren't allowed to struggle alone! I'll take it all onto myself, and if ghosts come I'll face them down myself, and if you make yourself so sick with hate you can't move, I'll carry you! So!" I stared fixedly at the wall, doing my best to ignore her. "So…" something hot touched my cheek. "You aren't allowed to… do that…" I stared at her in shock, while Natsuki wiped her eyes with one hand. Her other tightened on my shoulder, hurting me. "I hate it."

She collapsed, burying her face in my chest. "I hate you so much, for this…I don't want it… this pain…"

"Natsuki." I blinked, numbly putting my hands on her neck. "Stop it. You can't cry. If you cry… for me…" My hands moved upwards, lancing her hair. I pushed her head down, trying to muffle the sound. "It's unbearable." Tears welled up in my eyes, and I tried to stop them.

"I'm crying," Natsuki said savagely, pulling her head up again. Her face was close to mine, ravaged and angry and sad. "You know that. I've been crying, all this time, on the inside." Another fell. "All for you. So love me, as I love you! At least understand that feeling of mine!"

I stared up at her for a long moment, my whole body revolting in a storm of conflicting emotions. My hands reached her shoulders, crossing hers. But I didn't know whether to pull her close, or push her away. For at least ten seconds, we just stared into each other's eyes.

And then I let go and closed my eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't do that right now."

Natsuki stood abruptly, walking away. She opened the door, then stopped without looking back. "I'll be waiting for you."

And she was gone, and I was alone with my tears.