Ano Hito no Jijō (That Person's Circumstances)
by
Saddletank
Chapter Thirty Eight – Of Drama Clubs And Helpless Women
Akagi: "Homeostasis and transistasis." - Conversation in a bar, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Ep.15 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Katsuragi: "What are those?"
Akagi: "One is a force for the status quo. The other is a force for change. A living thing is something that has both of these conflicting qualities."
Ryoji: "Like men and women."
Next day I couldn't bear to spend time alone. I didn't really want to see Asaba again
yes I did
in case the same problems came up again. Enough of going pink whenever he came within ten yards and vomiting when he came within one and bawling my eyes out whenever he touched me. Enough of that. Blushing, puking and weeping is no basis on which to build a balanced relationship.
So I sat there in front of the mindlessly droning TV, my brain mindlessly droning in sympathy and my homework open but untouched, forgotten on the table.
Maho.
Untouched as well, sadly, or pretty much so.
But not forgotten. Very much not forgotten.
The name and the thought and the image of her face and the memory of her scent had been in my head all morning.
I hadn't seen her for days. Not since that morning I'd left Yukino's house with Shibahime almost a week ago.
She'd had that odd look on her face, something involving annoyance at Shibahime that she had gone home
(and taken me with her? Was that what that mildly irritated look had been?)
and something else. Something I just couldn't put my finger on. Something bordering on caring. Or concern. Or helplessness.
And it was those emotions that had made me begin thinking about her this morning. They were just not 'Maho emotions' as far as I was concerned, she didn't have them in her index card catalogue of Faces to Wear.
Maho's emotional card index was a small one, very limited. Bored; Coasting In Neutral; Mildly Annoyed; Mildly Interested; Infuriated; Angry; Very Angry; Seriously Deeply Pissed and finally More Angry That You Want To Experience Right Now Unless You Wish To Horribly And Agonizingly Die.
And really that was about it.
So deeply puzzled and even more deeply interested in finding out what Caring and Concerned and most of all Helpless were doing in there, I found myself with my mobile in my hand and her number's memory button under my thumb and her telephone buzzing distantly in my ear before I'd even thought of why I was calling or what I was going to say.
"Hm, Izawa."
"Hello, it's Sakana."
"Oh, hi," Coasting In Neutral answered me.
"What are you up to?"
"Just about to go out," Mildly Annoyed had taken over the phone now.
"Oh. Anywhere interesting?"
"Not really. Just meeting someone."
Who? Who? A boy? Who is it? TELL ME!
"Oh, right. I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet up."
"Uh, gomen."
"Oh, well. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I'm busy tomorrow too."
Who with? Who?
"Ah. Right. Gomen."
"Look, I'm meeting Miyazawa and that gang of misfits again on Wednesday. Want to come along?" Mildly Interested offered.
"Oh. Yes please. Where are you meeting?"
"Kawasaki. At the station. At eleven."
"Not going bowling are you?"
"Bowling?"
"Gomen. Never mind."
"We're just meeting up for tea and cake I think. Just chilling. If that's possible with that bunch of looneys."
"Oh, sure. Arigato."
"Why did you say bowling?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter."
"Well, bye."
"Hm, good-bye Maho."
- - - oOo - - -
I sat there, head in hands, cross with the mindless crap on the TV, cross with my inability to do my homework, cross that Maho dared to even have a life that didn't involve me and cross that I couldn't face a reality that involved vomiting whenever a boy who I really, really, really wanted to kiss me, tried to kiss me.
Those last two jostled for pole position in my emotional gymnastics for thirty minutes before I gave up and seething with unusually vehement self-pity, packed my swimming bag and stormed out of the house.
I spent all afternoon at the school pool swimming.
In self-pity.
And trying to forget stuff.
And given that Asaba hadn't phoned and left a message when I got home and given also that I'd be damned if I was going to mope about all day Sunday as well waiting for him to call, I went back to the school the next day.
And tried again to forget stuff.
And failed.
Maho. Maho. Beautiful Maho.
Who are you seeing? Who are you meeting? Whose gaze is drifting through your rainbow hair?
Who is delighting in seeing Care, Concern and especially Helplessness in your dark compelling eyes?
Who?
And, oh (this hurt so) what are you doing with them?
And why isn't it me?
- - - oOo - - -
On the Sunday evening on the way home from school, Asaba phoned.
Barely able to decide which was driving me more crazy; the thought of seeing him again or the thought of not being able to face the inability to kiss him (should he be so bold as to offer more kisses), I answered the call.
We talked for a good while, of this and that, of things not really worth telling. But he was able, as I knew he would be, as he always, always is, to convince me that a friendship made up on the one side of an idiotic, all singing, all dancing, all teasing Casanova and on the other side of a blushing, puking, sobbing loser wasn't all bad, and that he really rather liked it.
"Especially if you do it, Kanahrin," he teased me beautifully, "The crying brings out the protective man in me, the blushing is lovely and the vomiting, well, I think we can find a work around for that somehow. Also," he added, rather mysteriously, "if kissing your mouth generates such an adverse reaction… well, I'm sure I can find some other places to kiss."
We met on the Monday and on the Tuesday. He asked me round his house first of all but I declined. I was still nervous about going to his home territory, particularly as there wouldn't be any parents there to help, to haul him off me should he get carried away, so he came to me and we had another amazing, hot, sweaty, exhausting day of dance practice.
And I want to tell you that nothing happened. Nothing rude or romantic at all. Not a thing. I was a little puzzled but he said he thought if there was a problem with my panic attacks that it might be best if he just was "around me a bit" so I could relax more.
So we sunbathed a little (yes, he kept his clothes on) then when it was too hot in the middle of the day to be outside we danced and at the end of the day he once again amazed me by taking over my kitchen and cooking a great prawn curry.
And on the next day we went to the beach again and after an hour I decisively demonstrated who was the better body boarder. He accepted his humiliating defeat with good grace. Although he did reiterate a long whiney list of things he could do better. And to give an idea how desperate he was, weeing higher up a wall was one of his claimed (though not proven) achievements.
I was finding out more interesting things about Asapin all the time.
That Tuesday evening we stayed in Kamakura and he treated me to a Thai meal. Really, it was becoming more and more embarrassing. He had a limitless wallet and I couldn't help but squirm at feeling that I was becoming so much in his debt, not just financially but in the waves of kindness and consideration he heaped on me.
Maybe that was his plan. So I would be so guilty I'd let him get closer by sheer indebtedness.
All I did though was feel acutely unequal to him.
He was too good, too nice, too much the perfect considerate boy.
This couldn't go on. Either he'd have to stop being so damned nice or I'd just have to start being damned nice back.
Maybe that was his plan instead.
Romance by guilt trip.
Those two days, before the Aching Blackness, were among the nicest, the most carefree in my life.
They stood out, like a warm shining brief summer in contrast to the black winter that followed.
So let me tell you.
A string of days that unfolded with a horrible inevitable sensation as though someone determined to ruin my life had planned them that way.
- - - oOo - - -
The second of August.
Us seven girls were once again at a coffee bar. We sat drinking and chatting, as before. Shibahime was this time actually sat on Yukino's lap, like a daughter. Or maybe a pet. A pet what I'm not sure but, given the way she attacked everything on the table that wasn't made of china, glass or metal, a pet Godzilla possibly. In front of her a plate of cakes was being systematically orally traumatised. Uh-huh, as usual Shibahime was sat there, blissfully ignorant of the world around her, munching her way though a pile of sugars and calories so fast it made me cross. Cross that she wasn't the shape of a barrel, the size of a dinosaur and with the complexion of a pizza.
Some people burn calories.
(Shibahime burns them like a nuclear power plant burns plutonium).
Some of us (oh, thank you so much God) such as me, wear them.
There's no justice in the world.
I did notice that Yukino seemed rather quieter today, rather down. She wasn't talking so much.
I looked at Maho but she was as impenetrable as ever. A gorgeous silent wall. No Care, Concern or Helplessness today. Her emotional card index had been flipped firmly around to Coasting in Neutral.
Who have you been seeing?
I wondered.
Please… not knowing is killing me…
…can't you see that?
Tsubaki spoke:
"I've seen Arima. When I went to school for volleyball practice. We bumped into the kendo club that'd just come back from their training camp. I was so surprised! Arima's grown taller and he's kinda different now. Anyway, he looked real cool, with those looks and now his height he's practically a model."
"Huh…" Maho mused quietly, "In the end you just like anyone good looking."
I think Maho just likes pigeon holing people. I think it's the fighter in her. She's always on reconnaissance like a special forces patrol, gathering data on her potential opponents. It's why she's so often quiet and looks bored. She's hard at work inside storing information away for future use.
A big sigh came from Shibahime's cushion.
"What's wrong Yukinon?" Tsubaki asked.
"Hm, maybe I'll join a club, too," she replied, not sounding like she cared even remotely about joining a club.
"Eh? What's this all of a sudden? But the volleyball club would love to have you, though."
"Because I haven't done anything this summer. Arima's got club, there's the nationals coming up, he's grown taller and all sorts of things, but the way I am right now I haven't changed at all. It's no good. I know I'm only going to be apart from him for three weeks, but why do I suddenly become useless when he's not around? I just feel… helpless."
Tsubaki got out of her seat, and leaned aggressively on the table.
"Oh, what? So this is all about your love life? Hey, I ain't hangin' around if I ain't getting paid," and she made as if to go, all affronted and proud and fed up with girls who had no life except what was dictated to them by their boyfriends.
I had to laugh, she really was a funny girl. All her physical sporty posturing and showing off, her loudness and in your face bravado. The feminine independence. I wondered what she was hiding. I tried to imagine her at a smart restaurant at a candlelit table for two and simply couldn't. That hole was round and Tsubaki's square peg wouldn't go in.
"Ooh, you're your own woman, alright, a woman with guts," I teased her.
"Well I ain't hangin' around. I'm goin' home already. I don't have a boyfriend so I don't understand that sort of stuff."
She got up from the table and made an exaggerated display of stomping out of the café.
"All right! Gomen! I won't talk about it anymore!" Yukino tried to entice her back.
"Besides," the small, pretty and beautifully shaped Rika chirped up, "its not like you haven't been doing anything. You've been studying so much."
"Well, but its kind of a given that I do that. Besides, I've finished all the homework already so I have quite a bit of free time. Now that I don't spend time training to keep up my image, I have lots of free time."
Suddenly, across the table, Aya and Tsubaki became animated and attentive. They leaned together, hands clenched under their chins and fluttered their eyelids at Yukino.
"Yu-ki-non…" they sang in a stupid wobbly way, "Let us copy your homework."
Yukino took a sip of her tea and put her cup carefully down.
"One thousand Yen per subject," she answered coldly.
"That's so dirty! Terrible! You're going to mix money and friendship?" spat Tsubaki.
Aya made a gesture of dislike. She put her forefingers and thumbs together into circles and crossed her arms in front of her to indicate a money-grabber.
"Being charitable makes you a better person," she intoned, "Capitalism doesn't necessarily rule the world."
Yukino wasn't moved.
"Money is the key that opens all doors. I've become honest with myself concerning that issue. My brain can make money you know. At this rate I can become a doctor or a lawyer or anything I want. This brain is eventually gonna earn a couple hundred thousand a year, so I'm not about to start selling myself cheap now."
"Damn," Tsubaki cursed, "smart people are just so…" and she growled in mock hate and disgust.
"You've sure got rid of your mask," Maho observed, "Before you'd lend out your notes to everyone and you had everyone completely fooled."
Tsubaki turned to me.
"So, Sakana, how about you? Still swimming?"
"I've not been to club events at all. Yeah, I'm swimming but just for fun, just to relax. I didn't bother with the swim tournament."
"Why not?" Maho asked, "That must have shocked the coach didn't it?"
"Hm, a lot. But I'm thinking hard about what I'm doing with myself at the moment. Things are going on that are just confusing me and mixing me up."
"Oh?"
I looked at Maho. She was doing it again. That expression that had a little care and concern in it. Oh, thank you Maho, so you do care after all whether I exist or not.
My stomach did a little flip.
"Yeah," Tsubaki probed, "don't leave it like that, you gotta tell us now."
"Have you got a boyfriend or something?" Maho asked.
What's with you? You know how I feel!
"No way! It's not like that!"
"What is it like then?" Tsubaki smiled at me in a nasty, predatory way I wasn't sure I liked, "A girlfriend?"
I folded my arms.
"You guys can be really annoying you know?"
Tsubaki leaned forward on her elbows and grinned horribly.
"Right, so it is a girlfriend then. Ooh, I say, how juicy. Don't worry, your secret is safe with us. You'll have at least until the weekend before the national papers carry the story."
"Leave her alone guys," Yukino cut in "you don't want her to start crying again do you?"
"Yech, all that weepy stuff is for girls," Tsubaki teased.
"Come on, can't you see you're upsetting her?" Rika said.
I sat there, annoyed at being teased. My face was going red. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How to give every damn thing away without saying a word.
I looked over at Maho again. She was sat as she usually does, elbows on the table, teacup held in both hands and raised to her lips. Over the rim of the cup her eyes watched me.
I looked away, going even pinker.
"You're good to have around, Sakana," Tsubaki pressed on, "You're nearly as much fun to tease as Tsubasa."
At that very moment the cute but empty-headed girl burped and reached for another cake.
Everyone laughed.
"Ah, well then," Tsubaki relented, bored with taking advantage of me, "how about the drama club?"
Yukino, Maho and I all chorused.
"Drama club?"
"Yeah, it'd be perfect!" Tsubaki said, "We've got one here who can write stories, right?" she looked at Aya, "And we've got one who can make costumes, right?" she indicated Rika, "The pretty ones…"
"Me?" said Maho, "pretty?"
Of course, baka. Of course you're pretty. You have a mirror at home haven't you?
Shibahime merely grunted and pushed a piece of rogue icing into her mouth.
"The mixed up one who's an emotional wreck," Tsubaki mocked me, "that's a sign of a good actress, and finally the master of acting."
"Mixed up?" I asked, "oh, right, I love you too."
"That doesn't make me happy," Yukino said.
"See!" Tsubaki trilled loudly, smiling with glee, "You can all join the drama club!"
"What's so funny?" Yukino asked her, "And what're you going to do?"
"Oh, I'm on the volleyball team, so it's got nothing to do with me," and she struck a mocking, do I look like I give a shit, pose.
Yukino stood up.
"Oh, dirty! Nope! No way! It's not gonna happen!"
"Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyaaaah! I can't hear you!" Tsubaki sang, fingers in her ears.
"Kids. You're kids. I've seen grade schoolers behave better!" I said.
"And anyway," Yukino pointed out, "the school doesn't have a drama club to begin with!"
"Oh…"
"Think of something?"
Rika was looking at Aya. The pale skinned girl held a finger to her chin and had a funny look in her eyes.
"Hey," Yukino rounded on her defensively, "don't go getting any ideas, all right? Tsubaki's only teasing after all."
- - - oOo - - -
"See you all later."
"Sayonara! Bye now!" Aya and Rika called.
We were saying our goodbyes outside.
Tsubaki and Tsubasa waved.
"Ciao. Bye-bye."
"Hey," I called, a hot impulse suddenly filling me, "Maho, are you busy now?"
"Yeah, I gotta go meet someone."
"Oh. Okay. Bye then."
Oh.
Crushed.
"See you."
Who? Who are you meeting?
- - - oOo - - -
I wandered alone around the shops, not really interested in anything.
Baka!
This is crazy. Maho is allowed to have other friends. It's not against the law!
Well, it damn well ought to be.
But if it's a boy…
I pushed that thought aside.
Or tried to.
I went in a music store, bought a couple of CDs that I knew Asapin had in his dance collection and made my way home.
I put the music on and danced for a while, but my heart wasn't really in it.
I got changed into a bikini, took a towel, went out in the garden and lay in the sun.
And I lay there and had naughty thoughts.
Maho…
I imagined her in a nightclub, dancing with me. Her face serious and concentrating while she flowed, while she moved. The spotlights sending bright rainbows through her hair. And me. Watching her. It was hot, she took off her clothes. I was with her, dancing close…
"Sakana… rub oil on me…"
Damn…
- - - oOo - - -
11 - 12 June 2007
For author notes about Chapter Thirty Eight, please see my forum (click on my pen name).