It was a quiet night, just past three in the morning. Kuriko had awoken to the racing of her own heart and the sudden revelation of a change in physique. It had been a long time since she had involuntarily changed forms. She lifted her head slightly, vision bleary in the dim lighting. She was thirsty.
Kuriko padded downstairs to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, careful not to make sound, her feet hovering a few inches off of the hardwood floor. She drank down the contents of one, two glasses of water before gasping to breathe. She paused, looking out the kitchen window. The breeze outside caused the branches of the tree in front of the window to sway, flowers bobbing softly in the breeze and scattering petals.
It would be nice to go outside.
When she stepped out, she found that the night was calm and clear. She took a moment to imbibe the quiet, austere presence of the trees and the forest in front of her.
Kuriko slipped off her socks and let her bare feet soak in the feeling of stone and moss beneath her feet.
It was a sensation she wasn't used to, but it was pleasant. The psychometric memories of the rocks were benign and mostly consisted of the scampering of animals and the gentle falling of rain. A few insects had crossed that path, but Kuriko was able to block them out with a little effort.
The moon hung low in the sky, peering through the trees with a lamplike presence. It glowed a cold white.
She wanted to get closer.
Kuriko reached out a hand for the ledge, and climbed onto the roof with minimal effort. The breeze was more prominent this high up, and it ruffled her shirt and shorts. The smell of the earth filled her nostrils, from last night's rain storm. The air was humid and cold, and it made her tremble slightly before she automatically began to adjust her surroundings' air temperature. Treetops moved gently from side to side, and she could hear the quiet rapping of a woodpecker somewhere in the distance.
She sat like that for a while, just enjoying the relative quiet that was otherwise either disturbing (the germanium ring) or concerning (complete unconsciousness.)
Someone called up to her.
"Hey up there."
She could make out the glare of Kuniharu's glasses in the darkness.
"s' that you, Kusuo?"
Yes. I'm sorry if I woke you.
"Are you alright there, bud?" Kuniharu squinted in the darkness. "Is that... are you Kuriko?"
Yeah, she said flatly.
"Ah," Kuniharu said with a sort of puzzled blandness in his inflection. "Well, come inside, you'll catch a cold."
I doubt that. Go back inside, I won't stay out here forever.
"Well, alright. Let me know if you need anything," he offered. Still not telling me what's wrong. Kid never did.
Kuriko hugged her knees to her chest and ignored him. She heard the screen door close behind him.
She sighed.
It probably was a good time to go back in.
Kuriko padded back to her room silently. The moon shone through the open blinds in her room. It had been a long time since she'd appreciated the outdoors in all of its wild glory. There was something unforgettable about the pale glare of that fixture at this hour of the night.
She turned the handle and pushed the door, but stopped just before entering. She turned to look down the hallway into the darkness. Darkness? Odd. Kuusuke didn't sleep. Usually he kept the bedside light on.
Kuriko found herself walking to the guest bedroom. She turned the handle, cold to the touch.
Kuusuke was sitting cross legged on the bed, reading by the moonlight. There were dark rings beneath his eyes, and he hunched over a book which she couldn't make out the title of.
He blinked and looked up at her.
Hi.
She shifted her weight to the other foot.
Kuusuke bookmarked his reading material. "Kuriko." What's wrong I wonder?
Do you do this every night? She stared at him.
"Only on the nights I can't sleep." Most nights.
His fingernails were short and mangled from biting them.
"What do you want?"
What did she want?
Why do you do that?
Kuusuke's single visible eye glittered indeterminably.
"You're in your female form. Did you lose control of your powers during your sleep?"
Kuriko huffed in irritation.
I don't remember. I think it was relevant to a dream I had. In any case, it's not an issue.
"I'd say changing genders without intending to do so is very much an issue." He tossed the book onto his bed.
It's not like it would ever happen when I'm fully conscious. Anyways, it's none of your concern.
Kuusuke said nothing, but stared up at her coldly.
"One night, I dreamed that I caused the world's destruction." His expression didn't change. "You were in that dream. You told me that I was irresponsible. The world was torn by war that divided the major global powers into opposing political factions. The cause of this was a moral debate stemming from the conclusion drawn from the subject of my research- a functional time machine."
A shiver ran down her spine.
What you dream isn't reality. I'm not responsible for you.
"It was awfully detailed for a dream."
What do you want me to do about it? I can't stop people from dreaming. If you're having nightmares maybe visit a doctor.
Kuusuke said nothing, still staring at her in the darkness.
"Why do you think I told you?"
Kuriko tried to disguise her perturbation. Could he read it in her face?
I haven't the foggiest. Maybe you're lonely. I think you should go out more often.
Kuusuke's expression changed to a distrustful glare, and he pursed his lips.
"Well, if that's all you wanted to say, get out." He picked up the book from his bed. "I'm busy."
Kuriko frowned.
You wouldn't accept help?
"Good night, Kuriko." There was a finality in his tone that suggested the conversation was over.
"You need sleep." I won't wake you up tomorrow morning.
Kuriko turned and walked away, closing the door softly behind her.
She'd made him angry. It's what she'd intended to do, but she still felt a little bad about it. Blame it on the muddled thinking from staying up far too late, or the comparitive emotional softness of her female form. She yawned.
She really was tired. Huh.
Kuriko leaned back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling until she could see stars. When she was little, she'd considered it one of the few ways in which she was lucky to have powers. When everyone else around was quiet, it was nice to have a picture of the outside world, dark and tranquil. There was something about the black sky and the glittering stars above her that made her feel less monstrous, more like something smaller than the universe at large.
Now, she was finding it difficult to enjoy the view. She felt something churning in her stomach as she stared at the pinpricks of light. She wasn't used to the feeling of regret. It was usually eclipsed by anger, or more commonly, a blanketing numbness. She decided she preferred the feeling of anger above the others.
You don't have to feel bad. It's pointless. Kuusuke's thoughts reached her awareness.
Kuriko opened her eyes.
I'm not sorry.
No response came. Whatever. Kuriko closed her eyes and forced her mind to clear, imagining herself in the flat open space of a desert, cool at night and twice as dry, as she drifted off to sleep.